Facets of Friendship
by Silivren Tinu
Summary: A collection of short Aragorn Legolas friendship stories. Chapter 21: A Perfect World. Summary: Aragorn muses what a perfect world would be like. Pre-LotR. Characters: Aragorn, Legolas.
1. Reunion

_**Author's Note**: This will be a collection of stories that are too short to be posted alone. Each "chapter" will be one story. Most of the stories were written for various prompts on the Aragornangst yahoo group and will show different friendship scenes between Aragorn and Legolas._

_I hope to be able to update this collection regularly until I have finished a longer story. :) Today I'll start with a nice angsty get-well-soon story for **Keji**. I hope all of you enjoy and tell me what you think!_

_A big thank you goes once again to my wonderful editor, Imbecamiel, who beta-ed these stories for me! ((hugs))

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**Title**: Reunion

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: A visit in Ithilien goes not exactly as planned. Post RotK. Written for Prompt #2: "Rain" on Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: All characters and places mentioned in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and not to me. (pouts)

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**- Reunion -**

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His head hurt. The rest of his body did, too, and his leg seemed to be on fire. He heard someone moan. He was lying on something wet, and water seemed to be trickling down on him. Memories awakened slowly. An ambush, falling down a steep slope, a fight, pain…

He opened his eyes. He was looking into a grey sky, and a steady spring rain was wetting his face and the ground he lay on. He welcomed it, wishing that it would wash both the memories and the blood and grime from him. Turning his head slightly, he saw muddy ground, puddles and corpses of orcs lying not far away from him. He looked up at the trees, smiling as he took in the beauty of the spring forest. It had been worth it. Ithilien had been worth it all.

He felt himself drift slowly out of consciousness again. Faintly, he heard voices, seeming to come from far above. "Search everywhere! Find him!" Then there was only darkness.

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When he awoke again there were hands on him, touching and probing. Remembering his desperate fight against the orcs and claws trying to take hold of him, he tried weakly to move away from the touch and forced his heavy eyelids to open once more. He could not help moaning at the pain the movement caused.

"Do not move," a familiar voice said, and gentle hands pressed his shoulder back against the ground. "Let me take care of your wounds first."

He blinked, and saw a man kneeling beside him. The man had thrown the hood of his cloak back, revealing dark, curly hair that was plastered against his head and dripping from rain now. Stormy grey eyes met his gaze, and he could see worry, fear, and a hint of anger in them.

"Estel…?"

"I am here. Lie still, Legolas."

Legolas did as he was asked. In the face before him he saw traces of the fright he had caused the man, of a desperate search, and shock and fear at finding him in this state.

"Could you not once find a safe, peaceful forest to dwell in?" Elessar asked, while he pressed down on another wound to stop the blood from flowing.

"There are no spiders here," Legolas offered weakly.

The king glowered at him. "I will believe that when I know where Shelob is," he answered tersely. "When I arrived, the first thing I learned from Faramir was that you had not come back from what was meant to be a short excursion into the forest. We left immediately, but still we were nearly too late."

Recognizing the pain in his friend's eyes, Legolas mustered enough strength to move one hand and place it over the king's fingers, which still pressed against his wound. He saw the last traces of anger fade from his friend's face.

"Just once I want to find you hale and safe, my friend," the man said softly.

"I promise you will," the elf answered with a weak smile. "Next time."

Elessar shook his head, but smiled back at his friend. His eyes softened. "Rest now," he said, brushing his fingers lightly over the elf's eyes, causing them to close. "Just rest."

Knowing that there was no safer place than here, with the mud and the rain and the orc corpses, as long as his friend was by his side, Legolas relaxed and drifted off into welcoming darkness once more.

- The End -


	2. A small Problem

_**Author's Note**: This is just a humorous double drabble without any deeper meaning, but I wanted to post a little Easter egg for you. :) I hope you enjoy! __Chapter Three will probably be up at the end of next week._

_Warning: If you like fics to be serious and logical, don't read this one:D_

_Happy Easter to all who celebrate it:)

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**Title**: A small Problem

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: Imbecamiel

**Rating**: K

**Summary**: Aragorn and Legolas have a problem. Written for Prompt #1: "Lost" on Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: All characters and places mentioned in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and not to me. :P

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**A small Problem**

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"We are lost, aren't we?" The elf had come to a dead stop, refusing to go any further.

His human friend leaned against a tree next to him. "Yes, we are," he answered reluctantly.

For a moment they both simply stood there, Aragorn looking at the trees around them, and Legolas looking at Aragorn. Suddenly, the human's frustration gave way to a grin.

Legolas watched him curiously. "What is so funny about it?"

"Well, I am supposed to be a ranger, and you are supposed to be a wood-elf. We are in a wood not far from my home - and we are lost."

"I see." Legolas' lips twitched. "You are right, it _is_ funny."

"I think Halbarad will find this very amusing."

"Not to mention your brothers."

Aragorn groaned.

"Legolas?" the human began hesitantly after a short silence.

"Hm?"

"Perhaps we should keep this to ourselves? There's really no need to worry people for nothing."

The elf seemed to give it serious thought for a moment, then he nodded. "I think that is a very good idea."

Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief.

"There is only one problem," the elf went on.

"What problem?"

"We are still lost."

"Oh."

- The End -

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_I guess our two heroes will be busy during the holidays. ;-)_


	3. Shards and Shadow

_**Author's Note**: Here is the next chapter - this time it is a little gapfiller set right after Aragorn's talk with Arwen in the room where the shards of Narsil are kept. I thought Legolas would want to say something on the subject, too. ;-) Enjoy and tell me what you think:)_

_Chapter Four should be up some time next week.

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**Title**: Shards and Shadow

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: Imbecamiel

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Aragorn and Legolas have a heart-to-heart before the Council of Elrond. Set right after Aragorn's talk with Arwen in the room where the shards of Narsil are kept. Written for Prompt #4: "Broken" on Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: All characters and places mentioned in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and not to me. :P

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**- Shards and Shadow - **

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_All that is gold does not glitter,  
__Not all those who wander are lost;  
__The old that is strong does not wither,  
__Deep roots are not reached by the frost.  
__From the ashes a fire shall be woken,  
__A light from the shadows shall spring;  
__Renewed shall be blade that was broken,  
__The crownless again shall be king.  
_(J.R.R. Tolkien)

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Legolas watched Aragorn quietly for a while from the doorway. The human was not even aware of his presence, his attention riveted on the broken shards of the sword before him. The joy of seeing his friend again slowly changed into concern as he studied the man's grim features. Finally, he stepped into the room.

"Renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king," he quoted softly.

Aragorn spun around, completely surprised. "Legolas!" he called, and the troubled expression on his face quickly gave way to joy. "I did not know that you had arrived, or even planned to come at all!"

The friends embraced, laughing. Then Legolas drew back slightly, his arms still in Aragorn's grasp. "It is no good reason that leads me here," he admitted, "but let us speak of that when the time has come. Your thoughts are dark today, mellon-nîn."

Aragorn sighed, looking away. "First Arwen and now you," he said tiredly.

"I take it she has already tried to talk some sense into you?" Legolas asked, amused.

Aragorn's gaze was fixed on the shards of Narsil once more. "She told me the shadow does not hold sway over us yet. But it does. Whenever I look at this sword I can only see shadow and darkness before me."

"This sword was broken," he continued after a short pause, taking one of the shards in his hands and holding it so that its shiny surface reflected the light, "and so was Isildur's will, his honour, the strength of men. Why should I be more than he was? Why should I succeed where he fell to temptation? I am only a man, and so was he."

Legolas looked at him thoughtfully. "You are a strange being, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Your self-doubt is nearly as strong as the belief of your friends in you, but it should not be. You will succeed because you are who you are. I have no doubt in you, and neither has Arwen. Isildur was not the foster son of Lord Elrond, he was not brother to Elladan and Elrohir, nor was he loved by Arwen Undómiel. He was not _my_ friend, and he never risked his own life to save a hobbit. You are and did these things and more. You are _you_. Why do you fear to fall into darkness, when darkness was never a part of you?"

Aragorn scrutinized his friend's face wonderingly, searchingly. "How can you be so sure when I am not?" he asked.

"Because I know your heart," Legolas answered quietly. "Light can shine through darkness and shadows, but darkness cannot enter into light. You listen to your mind, but I listen to your heart."

"I cannot hear its voice," Aragorn said softly, laying a hand on the shards and feeling the cold of the metal and the stone under his fingers.

"Then listen to me, and to Arwen. Your heart will not lead you astray."

Aragorn looked at him, and the strength of the conviction in his friend's face and voice awed him. Suddenly he knew that he could doubt himself, but he was not able to doubt Legolas or Arwen. He bowed his head in silent acceptance, knowing that Legolas would understand. He turned his back on the shards of Narsil, allowing them to rest undisturbed once more, perhaps for the last time before the cold, broken blade would be re-forged in fire and tested in the heat of battle.

He did not doubt that the shadow would come for him, and would find him in the end. But he also knew that he would not have to face it alone.

- The End -


	4. Riddles

_**Author's Note**: Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews you sent me:) All of you should have the review replies by now, if they have been sent out correctly (there seem to be some problems with this website atm). _

_This week I have another gapfiller for you. It takes place before the fellowship enters the Mines of Moria, and before the attack of the creature in the water._ _I hope you enjoy and tell me how you liked it:)_

_My next story is a bit longer and will be posted on its own. It is set during the journey through Moria, but is not really a sequel to "Riddles". The title is "Darkness", and it will be posted next week. :)

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**Title**: Riddles

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: Imbecamiel

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: One moment between friends before the fellowship enters the Mines of Moria, and before the attack of the creature in the water. Movieverse. Written for Prompt #3: "Riddle" on Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters or the places in this story.

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**- Riddles -**

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"The Mines are no place for a pony, Sam," Aragorn said, regret in his voice. He knew how much Sam loved the beast. As he had anticipated, Sam at first tried to argue, but finally gave in. Together they loosened the straps of the various packs the beast carried, and freed it from its burden and tack. Then Aragorn sent it away, hoping that the pony would be strong and cunning enough to find its way back to Rivendell.

The short interlude had reminded him of someone else who did not belong in the Mines. Slowly he made his way back to the still-closed doors of Durin, trying to keep his distance from the dark water of the strange lake on whose shore they stood. Aragorn had been in many dark places in his life, but this was one of the worst. The grey cliffs that were the Walls of Moria towered above them on one side, and on the other lay the dark waters of the silent lake.

Aragorn found the member of the fellowship he was looking for where he had expected his friend to be. Legolas stood close to one of the tall holly trees, his head bowed, one hand touching the bark. If it were not for his golden hair he would have been all but invisible in the shadow of the large tree. Aragorn remained where he was for a moment, watching the elf. He knew that Legolas was trying to gather his strength for what lay ahead of them. Aragorn was well aware of what it meant for his friend to enter the Mines of Moria.

As a wood-elf, Legolas was linked to nature in a way that no mortal could really understand. It was like a sixth sense that listened to the song of nature around him, the whispering of the trees and the grass, the murmuring of the water, and the song of the stars and the sun. Being closed in by the rock and the darkness of a cave meant for Legolas to be shut off from that song, and it was as disturbing and frightening for him as it would have been for Aragorn to be blind from one moment to the next.

The elf had not said anything, but, as always, Aragorn knew his friend's heart. The ranger wished that there could be another way to follow. He did not want to enter the darkness of the Mines a second time. Legolas did not belong there and, for some reason he could not fathom, he feared greatly for Gandalf since the decision to pass through the Mines had been made.

Quietly he made his way over to the elf's side. Legolas did not move, but Aragorn knew that he was aware of his presence. Without a word, the ranger put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Legolas finally raised his head to look at him, and Aragorn saw gratefulness flash in his eyes. Behind them, Gandalf had fallen silent, looking defeated. For a while, there was no sound at all. Then, Aragorn heard something in the distance. Howling.

He looked at the elf and saw that his friend's eyes had narrowed slightly. It was all the confirmation Aragorn needed. The enemy had found their track, and if nothing happened soon they would be caught between the closed doors and a pack of wolves and whatever accompanied them. Aragorn's hand closed around the hilt of his sword.

"It is a riddle," Frodo's voice suddenly broke through the oppressive silence. Gandalf stared at him, then he jumped up from the rock he had sat upon, and began to laugh and call himself a fool.

Legolas turned to his human friend. "There is another riddle here that begs for an answer," he said.

"What riddle?"

"Why does an elf who travels with a ranger always end up in a cave?"

- The End -


	5. Bad Dreams

_**Author's Note**: Here's the next story. This time it is pre-LotR and part of my ever-growing Mirkwood Tales._

_In this story Aragorn is still Estel and about eighteen years old. Legolas knows of his ancestry, but he himself does not. I have taken the liberty to kill Gilraen off – I am simply of the opinion that it makes for more angst. ;-) _

_I want to thank ElenaRoan who jumped in to beta this story for me! ((hugs))

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**Title**: Bad Dreams

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: ElenaRoan

**Rating**: K+

**Series**: Mirkwood Tales

**Summary**: A storm causes nightmares. Written for Prompt #7 "Alone" on Aragornangst..

**Disclaimer**: Does anyone here think I look like Tolkien? (sigh) Very well, I do not own the characters or the places in this story. :P

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**Bad Dreams**

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Legolas awoke in the middle of the night, for a moment not sure what had roused him. Then he heard the storm raging outside. He sat up in his bed, berating himself for falling asleep. The elf had known the storm would come and he had planned to stay awake, knowing that he would be needed during the night. Perhaps his father was right and he really needed to rest after the long weeks he had been on patrol. But not tonight.

Thunder rolled in the sky above him, followed by flickering lightning which cast the room in a cold, eerie light. The thunderstorm seemed to be right above the palace of the woodland realm now. Rain poured down, and the wind howled. The trees in the Queen's garden in front of the window creaked and their tops bent with the wind. Legolas barely listened to the wild song of nature all around him.

No wood-elf was afraid of a storm, and this one was cause for rejoicing. The song of the trees was joyous as they drank in the water that they had sorely missed during the long, dry days before. Their voices joined the song of the wind and their storm-lashed branches seemed to dance rather than bow. Legolas heard them, but he did not add his voice to their song, nor go out into the storm, as was his usual wont.

His eyes were fixed on the connecting door which led into his guest chambers and his ears strained to hear any sounds from behind the wooden door. But there was only silence and the noises of the storm drowned out any slighter sounds. Legolas turned his blanket back and rose. Barefooted he made his way over to the connecting door, not even feeling the coldness of the ground beneath his feet or bothering to dress in something else but his light nightclothes.

The elf stopped in front of the door, listening once more, but since he still could not hear anything he opened the door without knocking, bumping his foot lightly against it to make sure that anyone who might be awake in the adjoining room would be able to hear that someone was entering. The sight that greeted him was no surprise.

Estel was sitting upright in his bed, obviously awake. He was leaning against the headboard of the bed, his knees drawn close to his body and his arms wrapped loosely around them. The human did not look at Legolas, but at the window and the raging storm outside. The elf could see the tension in his friend's posture and features and noticed that the human was breathing too fast. Knowing that he had been heard Legolas crossed the room and sat down on the side of Estel's bed, barely making the mattress dip under his weight.

"Another nightmare?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that seemed to reign in this room in spite of the storm outside.

The concern in the elf's voice made Estel finally turn his head and look at his friend. "It was only a dream, Legolas," he said. "I will be well as soon as the storm passes. Do not worry for me. You should be resting, you need it." And, after a moment: "It is only a storm."

Legolas watched the human quietly for a long moment, wondering whom of them Estel was trying to convince with his last words. The serious grey eyes in the still so very young face looked back at him steadily, holding his gaze. There was something deep and old in those eyes that was strangely unsettling in the eyes of someone so young. It did not unsettle Legolas.

Whether it was caused by the early loss of his parents, his upbringing by elves or his ancestry, this human had always been much older than his years, even when they had met for the first time. There was something almost elvish about him that enabled him to understand beings which were hundreds or thousands of years older than himself.

Not only understand them, but even mother them, Legolas thought with amusement. Estel was barely here for two days now and already he was doing it again. Soon after their first meeting Estel had started to mother him, and the elf had quickly realized that resisting that human was as easy as escaping Elrond when he knew you were wounded. Still, caring for others often made Estel forget to care for himself, and tonight Legolas would not allow that.

It had also been only a storm in a night sixteen years ago, when a two-year-old child had seen his parents and many rangers die in front of his eyes and had barely been saved from the slaughter by two elven warriors who would become both his brothers and protectors in the years to come. Legolas had soon learned that even many years later Estel was still instinctively frightened by storms, especially during the night, and would be plagued by nightmares afterwards or while the storm still raged.

"There will be more than enough time to rest after the storm has passed," he answered quietly.

Legolas drew his legs up on the bed and folded them gracefully beneath him, making clear that he did not intend to leave anytime soon. He extended his arm and took one of Estel's hands in his own. The human did not resist and the shadows in his eyes told Legolas that Estel was more shaken by the nightmare than he wanted to admit. The human's hand was cold and Legolas squeezed it slightly.

"You do not have to go through this alone," he said gently.

Estel looked at him and then, finally, he nodded, a hesitant smile on his lips. Gratitude shone in his eyes and suddenly he looked as young as his years.

- The End -

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_I'll be back next week with another story. Until then,_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	6. No Need to hide

_**Author's Note**: Another little story for you. ;-) Enjoy and tell me what you think about it:)_

_Arodiel, thank you very much for your reviews:) There will be other stories like "A small Problem", I already have one in mind. ;-)_

_A big thank you to Imbecamiel, who beta-ed this story and the next ones for me! ((hugs))

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**Title**: No Need to hide

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Rating**: K+

**Series**: Mirkwood Tales

**Summary**: Legolas tries not to burden Aragorn with his dark thoughts, but Aragorn has other plans. Written for Prompt #8 "Hidden" on Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing in this story but the Queen's Garden.

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**- No Need to hide -**

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He found Legolas where he had expected his friend would be, in the place where the elf always went when he wanted to be alone, needed time to think, or was hurt: the Queen's Garden. Quietly, Aragorn stepped to the side of the bench Legolas was sitting on. The elf did not look at him, but was staring at some flowers without really seeing them. Aragorn looked at his friend for a moment, then he sat down beside the elf without asking. For a while they sat there in silence, Legolas watching the flowers and Aragorn watching him.

"Sometimes I just want to hide away and forget that the world exists, or that _I_ exist," Legolas said finally, softly. "Do you know that feeling?"

"Yes, I do," Aragorn replied quietly, never taking his eyes from his friend.

_But I was not aware that _you_ sometimes feel that way, my friend,_ he added silently to himself. For the last few days Legolas had tried to be cheerful for his sake, but Aragorn had felt that the elf was hiding from him, probably not wanting to spoil his visit. When he had seen Legolas leave the council chamber much too early and storm off, he had decided to follow him, hoping that he would finally find out what was wrong.

"I am sorry," Legolas said, rising to his feet. "I did not want to-"

He broke off in mid-sentence as Aragorn's fingers closed quickly around his wrist, stopping his movement.

"Do you really think that I only desire your company when you are in a pleasant mood?" the ranger chastised his friend gently. He gave the wrist a little tug, and after a moment of hesitation Legolas gave in and sat down again.

"What happened?" Aragorn asked, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

"Nothing," Legolas answered. "Nothing out of the ordinary. No one has died or even been wounded."

"Did anything go wrong with the delegates from Laketown?" Aragorn inquired, not convinced.

Legolas shook his head. "The only thing that is wrong is me," he said, still not looking at his friend. He sighed. "I simply could not concentrate on trade arrangements concerning wine," he went on. "All I could think about were orcs and spiders and the increasing power of the Dark One, but I had to sit there and talk about wine as if it was of any importance at all. As if elves would not die on patrols and risk their lives in daily fights against creatures of darkness. It felt – surreal. I could not stand it one moment longer."

He lowered his head, as if in defeat. "All has changed so much, and all of it is so wrong," he whispered. "I find myself wishing that things could be normal again, that things like wine trade could feel important again. But it is not only the times that have changed, it is me."

He raised his hands, turning them and looking at them as if searching for an answer. "Is that really all I have become – two knives and a bow? Is there nothing else but killing and fighting left for me, and nothing but darkness to fill my thoughts?"

The deep sadness in the elf's voice made it impossible for Aragorn to stay silent any longer. He caught his friend's hands in his and held them tightly. "You are so much more than that, Legolas. First of all, you are my friend. You have so many gifts and are so many things. You speak the language of horses and trees and hear the song of the stars. You are a wonderful singer. You are compassionate and humorous. You are a warrior by choice, not by heart. You could never lose yourself, not even in times as dark as these."

For the first time, Legolas raised his head and met his friend's gaze. He seemed comforted by the certainty in the ranger's words, but Aragorn could still see the hurt in his eyes. "I am so tired, Estel," the elf said softly.

Without thinking, Aragorn drew the elf into a hug, holding him for a moment. "I know," he answered quietly, "I know."

Releasing his friend, he let his hands rest on Legolas' shoulders for a while longer. "We will face this darkness together and come out on the other side," he promised. "What you are in your heart can never be lost, not even when you forget it for a while. And if that is not enough, remember that I know you, and you know me. We can remind each other of who we truly are and what life is supposed to be, until the darkness ends."

Legolas nodded slowly and there was a trace of a smile around his lips. "That we will do," he said, closing his hand around one of Aragorn's arms and squeezing it. "Thank you."

Aragorn watched his friend closely, relieved to see the shadows gone from his eyes at last. "Just remember there is no need to hide from me," he said. "There will never be."

- The End -

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_Until next week:)_

_Take care,_

_Tinu_


	7. In the Face of the Enemy

_**Author's Note**: Hi! I hope all of you had a good week! Here's my update – I won't say anything about the story this time, just read. ;-) Have fun, and I really don't mind getting reviews. :D_

_Arodiel, I hope that's what you had in mind. ;-)

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**Title**: In the Face of the Enemy

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: Imbecamiel

**Rating**: K

**Series**: Mirkwood Tales

**Summary**: Legolas is faced with a daunting task and Aragorn tries to support him.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any elven princes or rangers or locations mentioned in this story. :P

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**- In the Face of the Enemy -**

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Aragorn looked into his friend's pale face, wishing he could spare his friend what lay in front of him now. Legolas' posture was tense, and Aragorn knew the elf dreaded what he would have to do today.

"Do you remember the day some years ago," he asked softly, "when I had to face a similar situation?"

Legolas nodded, not looking at him. Aragorn was quite sure he did not want him to see the fear in his eyes.

"Though that situation was not as bad as this one, it still terrified me nearly as much as if it were," the man continued. "I was so afraid that I was not sure how I should ever survive that day. You did not leave my side then, and neither will I leave yours. We will get through this together, mellon-nîn."

This time Legolas looked at him, and Aragorn saw gratitude in his eyes. The elf still looked as if he was about to be sick, though, and the ranger could not blame him.

"I wish I had not eaten anything today," Legolas said, and it was the first time he had spoken since they had been brought to this room. The elf's eyes were fixed on the door again.

"I know how you feel," Aragorn answered sympathetically, remembering his own ordeal some years ago.

"I wish I could run away," Legolas moaned.

"Just imagine you are facing spiders or orcs instead."

"Did it help you?"

"No," Aragorn conceded. "What helped me most was your presence." He smiled fondly, remembering that day so long ago. "I imagined you to be my bodyguard, who would shoot down anyone who even looked at me the wrong way."

Legolas could not help chuckling at that, and Aragorn was glad to see his friend smile for the first time that day.

"If only I could fight orcs and spiders now," Legolas sighed some moments later, getting serious again. "Do you think it is too late to go on patrol?"

Before Aragorn could answer, there was a knock on the door. Legolas froze and paled even more.

"I guess it is," Aragorn commented, looking at his friend worryingly. "If you want me to I can arm myself before we go in there."

These words were enough to get Legolas out of his daze. "No," he said, smiling bravely. "I know you are just as dangerous in unarmed combat."

Someone knocked again. "Prince Legolas?" a nervous voce asked. "It is time."

Legolas squared his shoulders. "Just stay near," he whispered almost pleadingly.

"Always," Aragorn assured him, giving his friend's shoulder a squeeze.

Then Legolas opened the door and went out to meet his fate. Aragorn followed slowly, keeping himself in the background. It was even worse than he had expected. But then, holding a speech in front of the assembled elves of an entire kingdom was not the same as holding one in front of his own family.

Legolas raised his head proudly and began to speak, aware of the comforting presence of his friend, who stood unobtrusively in the shadows behind him.

No one else would ever know how much it had cost the Prince of Mirkwood to step on the podium that day.

- The End -

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_Hehe – perhaps some of you can sympathize? (g)_

_Next week I'll post a longer story and the elf and the ranger are going to have a quite unhealthy and angsty adventure. Title is "The Forest", and due to its length the story will be posted outside the collection on its own. Summary can be found in my profile._

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	8. The Promise

_**Author's Note**: The special thing about this story is that Aragorn does not appear in it – but as the story is very much about Aragorn, I decided to include it in "Facets of Friendship" nonetheless. ;-) I hope you enjoy and tell me how you liked it:)_

_Thanks again to all of you who reviewed "The Arrow" ((hugs)), you should have the review replies by now.

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**Title**: The Promise

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel ((hugs))

**Rating**: K

**Series**: Mirkwood Tales

**Summary**: After the War of the Ring, Legolas and his father have a talk. Legolas, Thranduil. Written for Prompt #12 "Time" in Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any wood-elves or forests in this story. (sniff)

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**The Promise**

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"Legolas, I do not understand. Why do you not want to stay? Now, finally, you have the opportunity to see come true what we could only dream of in all these long years of shadow and darkness. Sometimes I doubted that we would live to see this day. But now Mirkwood will be Eryn Lasgalen once again. Will you not stay and share this joy with me?"

King Thranduil looked at his son, who had been entirely too quiet and withdrawn since his return to Eryn Lasgalen. Legolas did not avoid his father's gaze, and once again there was a pain in his eyes that Thranduil could not explain. "Why do you have to leave?"

"Because I do not have the time," Legolas answered softly, so softly that Thranduil nearly did not hear it.

For a moment, Thranduil was speechless. "Legolas, you have all of eternity," he then said. "What is time for us?"

If anything, the pain in Legolas' eyes only seemed to deepen at that. He did not say anything.

"Is it the sea-longing?" Thranduil asked quietly. He gently cupped his son's face with one hand, making sure that Legolas would not turn away as he had done every time when his father had tried to talk to him about the sea-longing and the cry of the gulls. "Is the call so strong that it will take you away from here before you have had a chance to see and enjoy the fruits of your labour?"

Legolas sighed, but did not try to move away. "It is true that the trees do not talk to me the way they used to," he said with a hint of sadness in his voice. "Their voices have grown weaker to my ears and I do not think that my heart will ever truly belong to this forest again." He looked up at the trees in the Queen's Garden, a wistful expression on his face.

"But the sea-longing is not the reason why I must leave. I measure time in the life-span of a mortal now, who will grow old and die far too soon."

"Elessar?" Thranduil asked, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Legolas nodded. "I do not know how I will be able to bear losing him forever. I need to spend all the time with him that I still can." After a moment, he added, "And there is also Gimli. He is dear to me and I want to be near him, too."

"Gimli?" echoed Thranduil. "True, he is a formidable and honourable warrior, but, Legolas, we are still talking about a dwarf!"

Legolas smiled at that. "Hm, let's see… The last time I saw him he had a long beard, carried an axe and was rather short – I think you are right, he really _is_ a dwarf!"

Thranduil shook his head, a longsuffering expression on his face. "You were always stubborn in your choice of friends," he commented, more amused than annoyed.

The amusement lasted only for a moment and Thranduil quickly grew serious again. "There will be pain for your either way, my son, wherever you live and whatever call you follow."

"I know," Legolas answered, his voice no more than a whisper. "Do not worry for me, Father. I have no choice but to follow my heart. What I had and still have is worth the pain, and it will always be worth it."

Legolas lowered his head and looked down into his lap to hide the pain he knew would show in his eyes. He felt his father's warm hand on his shoulder.

"I will never stop worrying for you, iôn-nîn," Thranduil said. "I will not pretend that I understand your decision, or that it will not pain me to live apart from you, but I accept it. Just know that here will always be a home for you, whenever you need it."

He put a hand under Legolas' chin and gently raised it until he could look into his son's eyes. "I will not leave these shores without you. Consider that to be a promise."

Legolas looked at him for a long moment, then he smiled at his father through tears that he suddenly could not stop from falling.

"Thank you," he whispered, hugging his father closely.

- The End -

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_I always thought Thranduil would never leave his son behind to face Aragorn's death alone, whether he agreed with Legolas' decision or not. :)_

_I will post a new chapter to "Dawn of Friendship" next, hopefully next week. Until then,_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	9. A Matter of Trust

_**Author's Note**: Here's a little update for you. It is short, but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless. ;-) Reviews are, as always, very welcome._

_Everyone who reviewed one of my stories during the last week or before should have a review reply now. I may be a bit late sometimes, but all reviews will get answered. :) _

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**Title**: A Matter of Trust 

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel ((hugs))

**Rating**: K

**Summary**: Aragorn has a hard time trying to convince Legolas to do something the elf does not want to do. Written for Prompt #16 "Trust" in Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters in this story, I merely borrow them for a while.

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o-o-o

**- A Matter of Trust -**

o-o-o

"No. I won't. Never again."

"Legolas…"

"Not this time. Forget about it, Estel."

"Trust me, mellon-nîn, it is necessary! We will be safe."

"You always say that, and you know what happened the last time."

"That was not my fault…"

"I don't know whose fault it was, but I will _not_ do it again."

"What do you want me to do? Just walk away?"

"It would be nice for a change."

"We won't get what we need anywhere else, and you know that."

"There is always another way."

"No, there isn't! I know this is hard for you, but I need to go there!"

"No."

"I could go alone. You could just wait here and-"

"The last time you went there you were almost killed – and I was with you! I will not let you go alone!"

"Then come with me! We won't be long."

"No! I don't want to."

"You must be the most stubborn elf I ever met!"

"You are the one who won't give in!"

"It isn't that bad!"

"It is worse."

"Legolas…"

"Aragorn, let it be."

"It isn't that easy. I have to do this, Legolas."

"No, you don't. You enjoy doing it."

"There is no choice."

"We can leave right now."

"I would not drag you in there if it wasn't necessary."

"Aragorn-"

"Legolas, don't you trust me?"

"Why do you always have to ask that? You are not playing fair!"

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do. But-"

"Please?"

"Alright, I'll come with you. But I hate you for doing this to me. _Again_."

"I know. Thank you, mellon-nîn."

With these words, Aragorn entered the tavern. Legolas took a deep breath, hid his head under the hood of his cloak and followed him, trying to ignore the smoke and the noise that almost instantly engulfed him.

- The End -

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_Hm – do you think they will run into trouble, or just spend a nice, relaxing time in a tavern? Anyone interested in a sequel? ;-)_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	10. Aftermath

_**Author's Note**: Here is the sequel to "A Matter of Trust". Of course all of you were perfectly right in expecting that our heroes would run into trouble once again. (eg) I have the strange feeling that this story has done nothing to improve Legolas' opinion of taverns… ;-) Enjoy and tell me how you liked it:) _

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**Title**: Aftermath

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel ((hugs))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Sequel to "A Matter of Trust". Aragorn learns the hard way that going into taverns (and dragging unwilling elves along) can sometimes be a very bad idea. Written for Prompt #18 "Shortcut" on Aragornangst.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters in this story, I merely borrow them for a while.

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o-o-o

**- Aftermath -**

o-o-o

"_Who is injured and what has happened this time?"_

The familiar, rather angry-sounding voice made Aragorn wince and try to look as inconspicuous as possible. He wasn't very successful, as lying prone on a bed and having a healer stitch a stab wound in your side wasn't exactly a position that helped in looking inconspicuous. Besides, the healer was obviously trying to hide behind him, which didn't make _either_ of them look very inconspicuous.

One moment later Elrond charged into the room, and it was hard to say whether there was more anger or concern in his eyes, when he looked first at Aragorn, then at the healer, at Legolas, and back at Aragorn.

"What happened?" he asked sternly once more, while he was already busy assessing his son's injuries.

There was a moment of silence, then a voice spoke up, "_Someone_ was not willing to listen, that's what happened."

Elrond turned to stare at Legolas, surprised. He could not remember that Legolas had ever spoken up voluntarily in a situation like this before, or that he had ever sounded so angry. The younger elf was busy glaring at the human, ignoring the Elf Lord completely. For a moment Elrond wondered what might have caused this uncharacteristic anger, but then he realized there could only be one answer to that question: Aragorn had obviously done something that Legolas considered to be careless and that had endangered the man's life.

"That is not fair, Legolas!" Aragorn protested. "How should I have known that this was the day of the great horse race between that village and the neighbouring one? Or that the people there had lost and accused the winners of cheating? Or, for that matter, that they were all sitting together in that tavern?"

"Perhaps the fact that the tavern was jam-packed with drunk and armed men could have given you a clue," Legolas retorted. "But no, you _had_ to go in there and stay there!"

"I needed that information!"

"Of course, I take it information is worth a life any day," Legolas replied coldly. "Tell me one thing, Aragorn: did you get it?"

Aragorn looked away from his friend's piercing gaze. "No," he answered quietly.

"You not only did not get your precious information, your questions also convinced the villagers that we were some kind of spies. And when the brawl started we became nice targets, which caused you to nearly get stabbed to death! Oh, and there was the nice idea you had with the shortcut!"

"Well, it _was_ a shortcut and we lost our pursuers, didn't we?"

"Yes, we lost them, because you led us right into a raging river! You nearly drowned because of that stab wound!"

Aragorn did not seem to have an answer to that, and Elrond had a fairly clear picture of what had happened to the two of them by now. He was beginning to feel a little bit superfluous. Legolas' tongue-lashing was better than anything he might have done, and it seemed to be well-deserved. Noticing that the healer was still standing beside him and looking rather uncomfortable, he decided to release the poor elf from his duties.

"You may go now," he said calmly. "I will take over."

The healer cast him a glance filled with relief and deep gratefulness, pressed the needle into his lord's hand, and hurriedly left the room, closing the door silently behind him. For a moment, there was a dead silence in the room. Legolas stared at Aragorn, Aragorn looked at anything but Legolas, and Elrond realized with an inward sigh that the healer had not even finished stitching the wound.

Elrond finished the other healer's work quickly and effectively, ignoring Aragorn's wince. "Are there any other injuries I should know about?" the Elf Lord asked, while he bandaged the wound.

Aragorn shook his head, and as Legolas remained silent Elrond thought it safe to believe the human. Being finished with Aragorn for the moment, the Elf Lord turned to face Legolas. The younger elf met his gaze defiantly, and Elrond realized that he apparently expected to be chastised. Elrond smiled at the wood-elf, who had long since become as dear as a son to him.

"How about you?" he asked. "Are you hurt in any way?"

Legolas blinked, obviously surprised by the question, and Elrond suddenly understood that the wood-elf had not wasted a single thought on any possible injuries he might have sustained until now. Immediately concerned, Elrond scrutinized the elf in front of him. Legolas was far from looking like his usual self. His clothes were still damp and caked with mud from falling into the river and dragging Aragorn out of it, and there were also traces of blood on them.

Elrond had a sudden nightmare vision of Legolas collapsing more dead than alive in front of him after finally realizing that he was badly injured, but he shoved the image resolutely aside and decided to believe that the blood on the wood-elf's clothes belonged to Aragorn, at least until he was proven wrong.

Becoming aware of the Elf Lord's scrutiny, and perhaps the concern in his eyes, Legolas finally found his voice again. "I am not injured, hîr-nin," he said softly.

Elrond sighed inwardly. Legolas only addressed him like that when he expected a reprimand or did not agree with something the Elf Lord had said or done. The wood-elf need not have worried this time. In fact, Elrond was in no mood to scold anyone and was quite relieved that Legolas had already done the job that was supposed to be his. If anything, he was grateful, so it was beyond him why Legolas expected him to be annoyed.

"Good," Elrond commented. "In that case, I think I will just leave now. It seems you two have a lot to talk about."

There was disbelief in Aragorn's eyes, which quickly turned into dread and pleading, while Legolas looked surprised and grateful. Elrond smiled at both of them, and left the room with measured steps, closing the door behind him.

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After the Elf Lord had left, the room went very quiet. Aragorn cast a glance at his friend, but Legolas was not looking at him and did not seem to intend to say anything else. Being tired of lying flat on his back, Aragorn shifted around carefully until he had moved into a half-sitting position. Afterwards he was forced to rest for some moments and breathe deeply until the pain had passed. That Legolas had made no move to help him showed the man clearly that his friend was still angry with him.

Suddenly he began to fear that Legolas would simply leave without wasting another word. Aragorn did not want the situation to be like this at all, and he wanted even less for things to stay like that between them for the next days or longer. Besides, he understood Legolas' reaction only too well.

Aragorn had nearly been killed two times today, and he knew he had scared the elf badly. If Legolas had endangered himself like that on a patrol, Aragorn would have had a lot of things to tell him afterwards as well. But what was worse, it could as well have been Legolas who was injured today, or even killed.

Looking at the elf again, who still pointedly ignored him, Aragorn decided it was time to try and break the ice. "Perhaps you are right," he spoke up tentatively. "Perhaps I was careless. I have become used to gathering information that way, and I did not expect that tavern to be any more dangerous than usual. And even when I saw the crowd in there, I did not take the situation seriously enough." He fell silent, not sure whether to go on or not.

Legolas was silent for a long time. "You nearly died," he said then, still without looking at his friend. "Twice."

"It could as well have been you," Aragorn answered softly. "I am sorry."

Finally the elf turned his head and met the man's gaze. "If you ever plan to enter a tavern and get yourself killed again, you should probably take someone else with you," he said.

"I promise you I will not be careless again," Aragorn replied seriously. "Or drag you into a tavern against your will."

"What about not taking any more adventurous shortcuts?"

"Will you stop being angry at me then?"

"Perhaps."

"Alright, no more adventurous shortcuts."

"In that case I will go and change my clothes now. In case you didn't notice, you bled on them."

"Legolas?"

"I am not angry, I'm just going to change my clothes. I will be back."

The door closed with an audible click.

"I hope so," Aragorn muttered. "Lying here would be terribly boring without you, my friend."

He settled back into his pillows, stared at the ceiling, and prepared to wait.

- The End -

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_I wonder how long Aragorn had to wait… (g) Next week there'll be another update to either "Facets of Friendship" or "Dawn of Friendship". I hope you'll have a very good time until then,_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	11. Changes

_**Author's Note**: It seems a lot of people liked my last chapter, thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews! I do not have a sequel to "Aftermath" at the moment, but as so many of you wanted one I will write it if I manage to catch a suitable plot bunny. ;-) _

_In the meantime, here's a new short update, highlighting yet another aspect of the friendship between our favourite elf and ranger. Enjoy, and tell me how you liked it:) _

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**Title**: Changes

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel ((hugs))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Legolas has an unexpected encounter on his way to Rivendell. Written for Prompt #23 "Stranger" in the Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any characters in this story, and I still haven't managed to convince anyone that I'm related to Tolkien...

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**Changes **

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The man standing in front of him was a stranger. He had never truly understood how a few years could change so much in the world of men, but now the power of time had become obvious to him for the first time. A boy had turned into a man, a slim body into a broad-shouldered, muscled one, and fine elvish garments had been exchanged for practical, worn-out ranger clothes.

Half of the face in front of him was hidden by a hood, but he could see that there were lines in it that had not been there before, and the skin was tanned from long times spent outside in the sun and the wind. One of the man's hands was on the hilt of his sword, an unconscious gesture that spoke of a life filled with dangers, and his stance was both watchful and confident.

This man was an experienced warrior, his skill perhaps equal to his own. Legolas dismounted from his horse, stepping in front of the man who was blocking his path. The elf opened his mouth, ready to address the man, and hesitated. "What shall I call you?" he asked finally.

"Some call me Strider," a familiar voice answered. "Others call me Longshanks. But for you…" he raised his hands and pushed the hood of his cloak back, "…I will always be Estel."

The eyes were the same he had always known, and they were filled with the pleasure of seeing a dear friend again. Looking closer, he discovered more and more traces of the child and young man he had known in the weathered face.

"I am sorry," the man said, gazing steadily at him. "I did not wish to startle you. I could not wait to see you, so I decided to come and meet you on the way instead of waiting in Rivendell."

The man smiled, and the warmth and joy in his eyes made Legolas understand that there had never been a stranger, but only a friend, who might look different to the eyes, but not to the heart. He smiled back at his friend, and the man stepped forward and embraced him.

"It has been too long," he murmured.

"Much too long," Legolas agreed. After a moment, the elf took a step back, not letting go of the man's arms, and studied the figure in front of him.

"You have grown, Estel," he said with a warm smile.

- The End -

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_I'll post some gapfillers in "Facets of Friendship" next, if I don't decide to update "Dawn of Friendship" first. ;-) I hope to see you again next week,_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	12. Reconciliation?

_**Author's Note**: I managed to come up with a sequel to "Aftermath" and thought I'd post it right away. This chapter is dedicated to Keji, who sent me just the right plot bunny at just the right time. ((hugs)) I hope you'll enjoy, and tell me how you liked it:)_

_**Additional Note:** This story is a sequel to "A Matter of Trust" and "Aftermath", it will make absolutely no sense if you don't read these stories first. The stories are posted in this collection as chapters 9 and 10.

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**Title**: Reconciliation?

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: Alinah ((hugs))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Sequel to "A Matter of Trust" and "Aftermath". A lonely Aragorn is kept waiting for a long time… and Legolas has to face an unexpected danger.

**Disclaimer**: I own the bath tub. HAH!

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**Reconciliation?**

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Aragorn waited for a long time, but Legolas did not come back. In fact, _no one_ seemed to deem it necessary to look after him and at least make sure that he was not running a fever or had collapsed on the way to the bathroom.

After what seemed like hours, Aragorn decided that he could just as well try to get some sleep. Moving around carefully and awkwardly, he managed to get hold of a blanket and spread it over his body without causing himself to much pain. Feeling deserted, miserable and slightly hurt he sank back into his pillow and closed his eyes.

It was obvious by now that Legolas was still angry with him, angry enough to leave him to himself after he had been injured. Aragorn found that the elf had really no reason to continue pouting. After all, he had apologized, and besides, it was _him_ who had been hurt. Wasn't a stab wound punishment enough?

Too exhausted to even feel indignant or fret about ruined friendships any longer, the ranger finally fell asleep.

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When Aragorn awoke again, it was already dark outside, but the nightlight cast a warm golden glow, enveloping him and a large part of the room. He was not sure if someone had been in here and lit it, or if the healer, who had used it to get a better look at his wound, had left it burning.

Seeing the still empty chair beside the bed, Aragorn wished he had not woken up. He was beginning to feel very much alone. Was _everyone_ in Rivendell angry at him? He sighed, staring at the ceiling and hoping that he would fall asleep again soon.

When the ranger just began feeling drowsy again, he heard the sound of the door being opened. Immediately wide awake, he decided to feign sleep and make sure that this was not simply another lecture and a foul-smelling herb tea waiting for him. The man did not think he could bear either right now.

Aragorn had to strain to hear the almost soundless steps and the soft creaking when someone crossed the room and sat down in the chair beside his bed. His visitor was obviously an elf, but being in Rivendell, he had not really expected a dwarf to come in. Feeling a spark of hope flare up inside of him, and unable to stifle his curiosity any longer, Aragorn decided to open his eyes and face the consequences – even if they consisted in having to face an angry elf again or having to take the dreaded _tea_.

The sight that greeted him was familiar and welcome, though Aragorn did his best to show neither his relief, nor his annoyance. Legolas sat in the chair right beside him, his long blond hair unbraided and damp. He had donned a fresh tunic and leggings and there was a faint, pleasant smell around him that Aragorn recognized as his friend's favourite soap. Even _this_ elf could not have spent all this time bathing, could he?

Becoming aware that he was being watched, Legolas turned his head and their eyes met. "It sure takes you a lot of time to change your clothes," Aragorn said, unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

"I am sorry," Legolas answered, no hint of the previous anger in his eyes. "It was not my intention to let you wait this long. I had… an accident."

Aragorn could not help feeling alarmed at hearing the word 'accident' in connection with Legolas, and he quickly and unobtrusively scanned his friend for any obvious or hidden injuries. Finding none, he shoved his concern aside, still feeling too hurt to let the subject go so easily.

"What kind of accident?" he asked, trying his best to sound indifferent.

Legolas sighed. "When I changed my clothes I realized I needed a bath as well, and as I did not think you would mind me coming a bit later I decided to take it right away."

The ranger raised an eyebrow at that. It seemed he would have had to wait in any case.

"But then… I fell asleep," Legolas continued, looking a bit sheepish.

"You fell asleep?" Aragorn echoed, wanting to make sure that he had understood his friend correctly.

"Yes," the elf confessed, and Aragorn felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Legolas was not angry at him any longer, and he had not intended to keep him waiting for long! He smiled. Suddenly everything felt right again in his world.

"In fact, I nearly drowned," Legolas added.

Aragorn stared at him. There were surprisingly many things that had proven to be dangerous for either of them through the years, but until now he had considered a bath tub to be safe. "You did not slip or fall, did you?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

"No," Legolas answered reluctantly. "I merely awoke with water all around me and unable to breathe. When I was out of the bath tub half of the room was flooded, so I had to clean up before I came here."

"That must have been quite a fright," Aragorn said sympathetically, putting a hand on the arm of the slightly embarrassed elf beside him.

It was no wonder that Legolas had been exhausted – after all, he had had to drag both of them out of the river and bring them back to Rivendell, while Aragorn himself had remained unconscious until they reached the gates of the Last Homely House. Suddenly he felt quite bad about expecting the elf to keep him company and keeping him awake at all.

"It was," Legolas admitted, "though it was also the silliest thing that ever happened to me."

They looked at each other silently for a long moment.

"You seem to feel better," Legolas commented finally.

"I am," Aragorn answered truthfully, not mentioning that he only felt better since Legolas had come back and he knew that his friend had truly forgiven him.

Thinking about all the things that had happened that day, Aragorn suddenly began chuckling. He tried to stop himself, but it was simply too much.

The elf looked at him suspiciously. "What is so funny?"

"Legolas, you dived into a raging river after me and somehow managed to drag us both out of it alive though I was unconscious at that time, and then you nearly drown in a – a bath tub!" Aragorn giggled, and Legolas glared at him.

"This is not funny!"

After finally managing to stifle his giggles, the ranger smiled at his friend apologetically. "You are right," he said, fighting to keep a straight face, "it really is not."

There was a strange gleam in Legolas' eyes now. "It might be funny to drown a ranger in a bath tub," he said slowly. "A certain ranger who needs a bath anyway."

Aragorn looked at him. "I nearly died twice today and you threaten to drown me?" he asked unbelievingly, trying unsuccessfully to hide his grin.

"Is it my fault that you like to live dangerously?" Legolas answered with an innocent smile.

"Point taken," Aragorn said wryly.

"I think you should go to sleep now," Legolas said, his voice softening. "You need your strength, and you can continue annoying me tomorrow."

The man smiled at that. Scrutinizing his friend's face, he noticed that the elf still looked tired, though he was hiding it well. "I think we should both go to sleep," he commented.

Aragorn moved around on the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position, and promptly winced when his wound protested strongly against the strain. Immediately, Legolas stood beside him, putting an arm under the man's shoulders to lift him gently, and shifting the pillow behind him. When the elf lowered him on the bed again, Aragorn noticed that the pillow suddenly felt much more comfortable. He sighed contentedly.

"Thank you," he said.

"Just do not try to move around again," Legolas answered. "You are in no condition to do so yet."

Aragorn watched as the elf sat down in the chair again, obviously planning to stay here for the rest of the night. The man remembered only too well how it felt like to awake after falling asleep in a chair as this one. If one managed to fall asleep in it at all.

"Legolas?"

"What?"

"Go to bed. I do not want another accident to happen to you."

"I can sleep right here."

"I am safe and I do not want you to fall out of that chair. Go to bed."

Legolas sighed again. "You will not relax until I do what you want, will you?"

Aragorn simply smiled.

"Alright, I give up," Legolas said and rose. "Good night, stubborn ranger."

"Sleep well, Your Highness."

Legolas groaned. Seconds later, the door closed silently behind him, leaving a very contented ranger behind. Yes, all was well again in his world.

- The End -

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_I think Aragorn really prefers this ending to the last one. (g) I'll post an update to "Dawn of Friendship" next. I hope you'll have a nice week,_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	13. Vigil

_**Author's Note**: Here is another gapfiller for you. One of the two friends is conspicuously absent in this story, but he plays an important part anyway, so I decided to post the story in 'Facets of Friendship'. If anyone decides to throw rotten tomatoes after reading it, I'll probably have to reconsider. (g)_

_I hope you enjoy reading, reviews are – as always – very welcome:)

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**Title**: Vigil

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel ((hugs))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Aragorn lives through a long night watching over the hobbits in Bree. Written for Prompt #25 "Hunger" in the Aragorn Angst yahoo group. Characters: Aragorn, four hobbits and some unbidden guests…

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any characters or places in this story, and I especially do not own nor want to own any creatures that happen to be part of it. ;-)

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**- Vigil -**

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Aragorn leaned back comfortably in his chair and lit his pipe. Save for the soft crackling sounds of the fire and the even breathing of the other four sleeping occupants of the room, all was silent. He knew it would not stay that way for long. He could feel their presence, like cold mist seeping into the room through the cracks.

They were here, or at least close. He could only hope that changing the room and watching the door would be enough to hold them back for one night. All the long years and many battles of his life had taught him much, but he doubted it would be enough to enable him to stand alone against nine Nazgûl, who were drawn to them by the call of the One Ring.

Looking down at the sleeping hobbits, the man wondered how he had ever ended up in a situation like this. After years and years of waiting and preparing, things were happening almost too fast now, and in most unexpected ways. Here he was, the last obstacle standing between the Nine and four hobbits, one of whom carried Isildur's Bane.

What could have happened to Gandalf, that he had allowed Frodo to travel alone with such a burden? What he had learned today made Aragorn worry greatly for his old friend. He could not think of anything, including the Nine, that would keep Gandalf from Frodo's side now. But whatever fate had befallen the wizard, the only thing Aragorn could do was to try and keep the hobbits safe in his stead.

The hours of the night passed slowly, but the feeling of coldness and a nameless threat lingered and deepened. Finally, Aragorn heard the muffled sounds of clattering hooves and the neighing of a horse through the closed shutters. A short time afterwards there were strange sounds and whispers, and he knew the Nazgûl had arrived. One look at the hobbits told him that they were still slumbering peacefully, apart from Frodo, who was moving restlessly in his sleep.

Aragorn straightened in his chair, listening intently, but making no other move. He could feel the hunger that drove the faceless creatures, and imagined their frantic search, and their rage and disappointment. Something stirred deep inside of him, and he knew that the Ring was calling. Looking down he saw Frodo turning and tossing restlessly in his sleep, and fingering something hidden in his pocket.

For a moment the man wondered what it must be like to be one of those wraiths, to be so utterly enslaved that you belonged to someone else mind, heart, will, and body, and were his to command, only living to obey and please your master. Had they even noticed what was happening to them? Had they tried to escape their fate, or were they so blinded by their greed and hunger for power that they did not even care about the price they had to pay?

Only once had he met one of them before, and on that day he had almost succumbed to the lure of darkness and the twisted logic of their voices. He had learned much about the Nazgûl then, a lot more than he had ever wanted to know. Had he been alone, he would have been lost, but luckily Legolas had been with him, providing a hold in the darkness that threatened to drown him.

Aragorn would have given a lot to have his trusted friend at his side right now. Legolas would undoubtedly have a lot to say to him if he knew what kind of situation Aragorn had gotten himself into this time. Somehow, the mere thought of his friend was calming. The sounds had finally ceased, and the whispers had vanished. Frodo awoke for a moment, and Aragorn could feel the hobbit's gaze rest on him, but soon after he fell back asleep, and this time his sleep seemed to be peaceful and undisturbed.

Aragorn allowed himself to relax and heaved a sigh of relief. For now, the Nazgûl were gone, fooled into believing that the One Ring had already left this place. But the man knew only too well that they would never stop hunting for the Ringbearer and whoever was with him, driven by their blind hunger for the Ring and their master's need for it. They would be back, and Aragorn could only hope that he would be able to hide Frodo and his dangerous burden from them long enough to reach Rivendell.

He stayed awake and alert during the rest of the night, planning the routes they would take, and wondering whether any of his friends or family knew of his plight. He had no way to send a message, and no one he could trust, so he knew he would have to rely entirely on himself for the time being.

Only when the darkest hours of the night finally gave way to the first grey light of dawn did Aragorn rise. He drew the curtains and pushed the shutters back, allowing the first light and the fresh air of a new morning into the room. Outside of the window, a cock crowed, and Aragorn smiled.

When he had still been a child and plagued by terrible nightmares, Elrond had once told him that even the longest night could never bury the hope of a new morning. He had never forgotten those words, and they had always proven to be true. Suddenly the way to Rivendell did not seem to be so long anymore.

- The End -

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_**Note**: When I mention in this story that Aragorn met one of the Nazgûl before I'm referring to a previous short story of mine, "Stronger than Darkness". I do not think it is necessary to read it in order to understand this story, but if you want to read it you can find it posted right here on this website. :)_

_Next week you'll get another gapfiller. Until then,_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	14. Stubborn Hearts

_**Author's Note**: Hi again! I intended to post this story weeks ago, but sickness and Real Life conspired against me. In fact, they still do, but things have improved a tiny little bit and I've decided to post again. I hope you'll enjoy the story:)_

_I can't promise that I'll be able to post regularly again or to even answer the reviews this time, but each and every review is still very welcome:)

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_

**Title**: Stubborn Hearts

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel ((hugs))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: After the Fellowship has left Rivendell, Legolas discovers that he and Merry have something important in common, while King Thranduil receives distressing news. Written for Prompt #26 "Duty" in the Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: Even with a false beard and grey hair I do not resemble Tolkien in any way, so I unfortunately still do not own any characters or anything else in this story that is recognizable from "Lord of the Rings". :P

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o-o-o

**Stubborn Hearts**

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Legolas had been watching the hobbit who was trotting along at his side for quite some time now. He did not know much about hobbits, but from their behaviour since they had left Rivendell he had gained the impression that it was natural for a hobbit to be either merry or hungry most of the time. The hobbit walking at his side was obviously neither. In fact, Meriadoc Brandybuck had a frown on his face and seemed to be brooding over dark thoughts.

"Does something ail you, Master Meriadoc?" Legolas asked finally, not sure whether his help would be needed or welcome, but willing to try.

Merry looked up, surprise in his eyes. It was obvious that he had not even noticed the presence of the elf until now. "In fact it does," the hobbit confessed after a moment of hesitation. "I'm wondering whether it wasn't a very foolish idea to go on this Quest."

This time it was Legolas' turn to be surprised. Most people he knew, who still had some reason left, would have called the Quest insane instead of foolish, but as he recalled Merry and Pippin had insisted quite persistently on being taken along. "You did not seem to have any such doubts in Rivendell," he said, eying the small creature beside him.

"I was thinking with the heart then, not with the brain," Merry replied. "Besides, I had no real idea what I was getting into. I probably still don't have, but I think I'm beginning to understand."

He was silent for a while, and Legolas noticed that Merry's gaze rested on Frodo, who was walking right after Aragorn and Gandalf at the head of the small group.

"What if Pippin and I have endangered the mission instead of helping it by insisting on coming along?" Merry asked quietly. "We are not very useful for things like this, you know? If we had stayed behind Lord Elrond could have chosen someone more suited for the task, another elf perhaps, or a warrior like Boromir."

Legolas was looking forward at the people walking at the head of the group now, too, but his gaze was not resting on Frodo. His eyes were fixed on the tall man in ranger's garb, who was currently engaged in a lively conversation with the wizard beside him. The elf smiled.

"If that is your reason for fearing that your decision may have been foolish, you may call me a fool as well," he said softly.

Merry stared at him. "You? Why would I ever want to call you a fool?"

"Because I have joined this Fellowship for the same reasons you did," Legolas answered. "It is no more my duty to destroy the Ring, than it is yours. I am not bound to it by the deeds of an ancestor, nor did I find it or have an uncle who did. The duty that binds me to this task is a duty of the heart. Apart from the understandable wish to save Middle-earth, of course."

The hobbit's round-eyed astonishment gave way to chuckling. "I noticed that you and Strider – I mean, Aragorn – seem to be close friends," he said then, obvious curiosity in his eyes.

"We are," Legolas agreed. "I have known him from the time when he was still a child and not burdened by any knowledge of his ancestry, nor weighed down by responsibilities or duties. I would never allow him to walk into Mordor or any other dark place alone, even if the only help I could give is to be a familiar presence at his side and to believe in him."

He turned his head and looked down at Merry, his bright eyes serious. "I know you feel the same way about Frodo," he added.

Merry shook his head. "But it is not the same," he protested. "How can you say you are not suited for the task? You are an elf and… and I guess a renowned warrior as well!"

Legolas laughed, and it was the merriest sound the hobbit had heard all day. "Being an elf is not enough to qualify anyone for this task, Master Hobbit," Legolas said, sounding amused. "Among my people, I am still young, and Elrond had mighty elven lords and various renowned warriors to choose from. I do not know why he decided in my favour – though it might have something to do with the fact that he would have had to send me home tied in a sack to keep me from coming."

Merry could not help grinning at that thought. "From all I heard about your father he would probably not have been happy about that," he said.

"Not really," Legolas admitted, though he was quite sure that Thranduil was even more unhappy now, and would probably prefer a son sent home to him tied in a sack to a son who was currently on his way to Mordor with the One Ring and eight companions. Legolas knew that the news would be a hard blow to his father, who loved him dearly. Still, he hoped that the elven king would be able to understand, and forgive him his decision.

Shoving these and other thoughts aside, the elf put one hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "Let us hope that a stubborn heart will be enough to make up for any lack in strength and wisdom," he said, smiling softly.

Merry nodded, smiling back at the elf. "Thank you," he said, his eyes serious.

"Somehow, I'm feeling much better now," he added after a moment. "In fact I think I'm hungry. Sam must still have some of that dried meat left. Would you care to have some, too?"

"No," Legolas answered, suppressing a smile. "I am not hungry yet."

"I'll never understand how elves and men can grow so tall from eating almost nothing," Merry remarked, shaking his head. "I'll bring some more meat, in case you change your mind. Just a moment!"

The hobbit quickened his pace to catch up to Sam who was walking a good distance in front of them, right next to Frodo. Legolas almost winced when he heard something clatter loudly in the hobbit's backpack. He had long since decided that there could be nothing noisier than a group of hobbits, men, and one dwarf moving through the wilds. How Aragorn had ever managed to get the hobbits to Rivendell without being discovered immediately was beyond him.

His gaze wandered back to Aragorn and Gandalf. Whatever the two of them were deciding right now, and in whatever dark places all of them would find themselves before long, if friendship could prove to be stronger than greed and fear, then, maybe, they had a chance to succeed – and to survive.

Perhaps Elrond's choice had been influenced by similar thoughts in the end. Though that still did not explain why there had to be a dwarf among them. Still, if this Quest gave him a chance to save his land and his people, and to keep an eye on Aragorn, Legolas decided that he would be able to tolerate the presence of a dwarf, if he absolutely had to.

----------

_Mirkwood, Palace of the Elven King, at about the same time:_

"_He has done what?"_

The messenger winced and wished with all his heart to be in any other place but here right now. "He has joined the Fellowship, Sire," he answered almost apologetically. "You know how the prince can be, your Highness. It was impossible to hold him back."

Thranduil closed his eyes. The elf braced himself for another outburst from his king, but it never came. Instead, Thranduil opened his eyes and looked at the messenger, taking in his travel-worn appearance for the first time.

"I will want to talk to you later," he said. "But now you should go and take some rest. You must be tired from your journey."

In spite of the clear dismissal the messenger hesitated, well aware of the pain he had caused with his words. "I am sorry," he said finally, knowing there was not really anything else he could say. He turned and left, closing the door silently behind him.

Thranduil remained standing in the middle of his study for a while, then he walked slowly over to one of the large windows and looked out into the Queen's Garden. It had always been one of Legolas' favourite places whenever he was home. The king sighed. It was not difficult to understand why Legolas had acted the way he did, especially after learning that Aragorn had volunteered to accompany the Ringbearer.

Legolas had done what he considered to be his duty both to his realm and to his friend. Still, Thranduil found himself wishing that he had locked Legolas in his room and sent someone else to Rivendell with the news of Gollum's escape. At least Elrond had finally told him the truth about Gollum and had not tried to lie to him about the mission of the Fellowship, though he had taken a considerable risk in doing so.

Thranduil shook his head. He had never had reason to doubt the sanity of the Lord of Imladris before, but now he was very close to doing just that. How could Elrond send his only child to Mordor with the One Ring and a _dwarf_ as company? The elven king had to suppress the sudden urge to grab some weapons, get his horse, find his wayward son, and drag him back home.

But if he was honest with himself, he knew that there was no safety to be found within these borders any longer, and he doubted that even he himself would be able to drag Legolas anywhere against his will. For the first time he found himself wishing that Legolas had become a scholar, or perhaps a bard, instead of a warrior. If Elrond had been here now, he would have had a lot of things to say to him.

Unconsciously, Thranduil sat down in one of the chairs, still staring out of the window and wondering where his son was, and whether he was still safe. He knew there would be no peace nor real rest for him now until the fate of the Ring and the Fellowship had been decided, whatever that fate might be.

- The End -

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_My next story will be another gapfiller, but as it is about twice as long as this one I'll post it on its own. It has the nice title "Despair" and the characters will be Legolas, Boromir, Aragorn, and the One Ring. (g) I hope to be able to post it soon, and I hope to see you again then. _

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	15. A Dark Night

_**Author's Note**__: Here's finally another little update for you! I did not intend to vanish without a trace for months, but it seems my Real Life consists of one crisis after the other since the beginning of this year. I just want you to know that I do not plan to give up writing or posting anytime soon._

_I hope you'll enjoy reading and tell me what you think about my little story!:)_

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**Title**: A Dark Night 

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel ((hugs))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: A moment between friends right before the battle of Helm's Deep. Written for Prompt #24 "Dark" in the Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any characters, strongholds, or evil creatures in this story. ;-)

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o-o-o

**A Dark Night**

o-o-o-o

It was fitting that the attack would begin during the dark hours of the night. Their enemies were creatures of darkness, and that would never change, even if they were able to move in broad sunshine now. They would feel safe and strong hidden under the cloak of the night, and their senses would not be impaired by the darkness. Neither were his.

He had led patrols near the stronghold of Dol Guldur before, and had been touched more than once by the evil that lived there; he had fought against hordes of orcs, together with rangers, elves, at the side of a friend, or all alone; he had defeated the great spiders of Mirkwood in many a fight; he had fought against wargs and wolves, and various creatures of shadow, and he had been forced to face a Balrog of Morgoth. But never before had he been in a situation that had seemed so hopeless.

They were utterly outnumbered and trapped between walls of stone, faced with an enemy that was bent on destruction, there was no help to be expected, and nearly all of them were men, whose eyes would not be able to discern much in the darkness. He listened to the sound of thousands of booted feet marching in their direction, making the ground shake and resound like the steady beating of drums.

It was a threatening, merciless sound, and it reminded all of them how strong and tireless Saruman's creatures were. He could see their shapes moving in the distance like a black flood, and could feel the pain of the burnt, scarred soil they left behind.

His fingers stroked over the fletching of the arrow he held in his hands, ready to nock it when it was needed. Even though their enemies were still a good distance away, it made him feel good to be ready. His eyes fell on the dwarf at his side, and he saw Gimli running one thumb along the sharp side of his battle axe, as if in a caress. Yes, they were ready.

He turned his head and looked at the man standing at his other side. Aragorn's face was calm and determined, his eyes fixed on the enemy in the distance. He knew that the man's eyes would not be able to see anything but the tiny moving lights of countless torches, shining like fireflies in the darkness. Aragorn had not moved or spoken for quite some time now, ignoring the rain that was running down his face, soaking his tunic, and the anxious whispers around him.

His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, and there was something unshakable in his stance that seemed to speak of… confidence. Legolas could not help smiling softly as he studied his friend. How was it possible that one man could inspire such hope in his heart, in all their hearts, that they could stand against overwhelming odds, without any chance of survival, and yet feel no despair?

If he felt anything, it was pride. Pride in the stout dwarf and the man at his side who was destined to be a king, and in the men around them. Pride to be here and share their fate, whatever it would be. Aragorn turned his head, and their eyes met. Not for the first time Legolas felt as if the man was looking right into his soul. One moment later Aragorn smiled back at him, warmth in his eyes. Putting a hand on the elf's shoulder, he turned to face the approaching army again.

Instinctively, Legolas' fingers resumed stroking over the shaft of the arrow and the fletching while he watched the approach of the Uruk-hai. His eyes narrowed slightly. Soon the wait would be over.

- The End -

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_I hope to see you again soon with another story!_

_Take care,_

_Tinu :)_


	16. Lament

_**Author's Note**__: Another Helm's Deep gapfiller. The story is movieverse, but all the information about what happened to the bodies of the fallen was taken right from the books. As usual, I would love to hear how you liked it. :)_

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**Title**: Lament

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel (((hugs)))

**Rating**: T

**Summary**: Aragorn and Gimli watch the surviving elves grieve for Haldir and their other fallen comrades after the battle of Helm's Deep. Movieverse gapfiller, set after the battle of Helm's Deep and before the confrontation with Saruman in Isengard. Characters: Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli. Written for Prompt #126 "Sing" in the Owners of Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the places or characters in this story, I only keep them alive by playing with them from time to time. :)

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**- Lament -**

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_In the midst of the field before the Hornburg two mounds were raised, and beneath them were laid all the Riders of the Mark who fell in the defence, those of the East Dales upon one side, and those of Westfold upon the other._

_The orcs were piled in great heaps, away from the mounds of Men, not far from the eaves of the forest._

(J.R.R.Tolkien, "The Lord of the Rings", Book Three, Chapter VIII "The Road to Isengard")

Aragorn walked slowly along the remains of the Deeping Wall, staying out of the way of the Rohirrim, who were working hard gathering the bodies of both men and orcs, to take them either to the greensward between Helm's Dike and the Deep, where the fallen riders of Rohan would be buried in two burial mounds, or further out into the Deeping Coomb, where the orc corpses were piled in great carrion heaps. He had helped to tend the numerous wounded, unable to seek any rest before he had done all he could to alleviate the suffering of those who had not been fortunate enough to escape from the battle unscathed.

Beyond weary in body and soul, he sat down on a boulder, watching the coming and going of the men around him for a while. The stench of the orc corpses was nauseating, and the faces of the men were grim as they laboured in silence, their eyes darkened by grief and weariness. Beyond the deeping wall, the wailing voices of women could be heard, mourning the dead.

Some distance away from the men and the remaining corpses, Aragorn's searching gaze found Gimli, standing close to the steep rock wall of the ravine like a silent sentinel. Aragorn could not stifle a sigh. After he had treated the dwarf's head wound, Gimli had promised to rest, but it seemed sleep had eluded him, just as it had his healer. The dwarf was still wearing his armour, and his hands were resting on his battleaxe, whether for support or ready to wield it, Aragorn did not know.

Gimli's eyes were riveted on something in front of him, and when Aragorn followed his gaze, he noticed a group of motionless figures standing in a half-circle, with their backs towards him and the Rohirrim. The ranger felt a stab of remorse and a hint of worry when he recognized the familiar stance and golden hair of one of the figures. Even among his own kind, Legolas was unmistakeable.

He had not seen his friend for some hours, though he had promised himself that he would keep an eye on the elf and make sure he was faring well, when they had last seen each other after the battle. Legolas had helped Aragorn to take care of his various wounds, but there had been no time for talking, just some short moments of taking comfort in each other's presence. The elf had wanted his friend to take some rest, but the ranger had once again refused, knowing very well that sleep would elude him until the wounded had been taken care of. Understanding Aragorn's reasons, if not liking his decision, Legolas had argued no further.

They had gone their separate ways afterwards, Aragorn joining the healers and the elf seeking out the surviving Galadhrim, intending to lend them a hand in recovering their own dead, and likely attempt to comfort them in their grief as well. Knowing how dangerous grief could be for an elf, and that Legolas himself was grieving for Haldir, Aragorn had been loath to let his friend go alone, but, seeing no other way, had chosen to stay silent. Since then, he had lost himself in trying to save as many lives as he could, and to at least ease the pain where he was unable to help.

He could see now that the elves had been working just as hard as the Rohirrim in the meantime. Their dead had been recovered and carefully placed in a long row. The faces of the fallen warriors had been cleaned of gore and dirt, and their hands were folded, resting upon the weapon they had last wielded in battle. In spite of all efforts, some of the faces were barely recognizable, and some were no longer attached to the body they belonged to.

Aragorn looked away, unwilling to remember the fallen that way. He would never forget the moment when the Galadhrim had arrived at the Hornburg, bringing hope to the besieged in their darkest hour, when all had appeared to be lost. The elves had paid dearly for honouring the old alliance between their two people. None but five of the elves of the Golden Wood had survived. Part of him wished they had never come, but another, stronger part was immeasurably grateful that they had.

Aragorn's gaze was drawn to his hands. He had washed them before he had gone to join the healers, but now they were covered in dried blood. Many had died during the long night, but without the elves it might have been so much worse. If the Hornburg had fallen, the hope of all free people of Middle-earth would have fallen with it. Aragorn raised his head again, his eyes seeking out first Gimli and then Legolas, his heart finding solace in the fact that those two had survived where so many had fallen.

Again, his gaze came to rest on the small group of elves standing in a half-circle before the long row of dead warriors. The ranger knew that the fallen elves would be buried in a third mound, close to the two mounds where the dead of the Rohirrim would find their last rest. Haldir himself would be laid to rest in a grave of his own next to Háma, the captain of the King's guard. The Galadhrim would have preferred to take their dead back with them, but the fallen were simply too many, and the survivors too few.

Whatever the fate of Middle-earth would be, it was unlikely that any elf, save perhaps one, would ever set foot in this land again or visit the graves to commemorate the dead. Aragorn knew that the survivors had gathered one last time to mourn, try to heal the grief, and say goodbye to the friends, perhaps even relatives, whom they had lost to the Halls of Mandos and would not see again for a very long time.

Watching Legolas stand silently between the Galadhrim, Aragorn wondered how well his friend had known Haldir. The two had met several times over the years, when Legolas had been on patrol along the southernmost border of Mirkwood, near Dol Guldur, and they had clearly gotten along well, but the ranger did not know if they had been friends. For Legolas' sake, he hoped not. First losing Gandalf, then Boromir, and then Aragorn himself had been hard enough for the elf, though only one of them had truly been lost.

A voice broke through Aragorn's musing thoughts, directing his attention back to what was happening in front of him. One of the elves had started to sing, and one after another, the others joined him. The song sounded familiar, and Aragorn recognized one of the laments that had been sung for Gandalf during their time in Lothlórien. The words had been altered, and the song was for Haldir now, but the melody was still hauntingly beautiful and sad in a way that was almost unbearable for mortal ears and hearts.

Looking around, Aragorn saw that the Rohirrim had paused in their gruesome task and were now facing the elves, listening intently. Not even Éowyn's fair voice could compare to what they now heard. Some of the grim, stern faces were now softened by awe, wistfulness, and sadness, though the pain and the grief they felt was still etched deeply into their features. Gimli was still standing where he had stood before, but his head was bowed, as he paid his own respect to the fallen warriors. Aragorn could not help smiling at the sight. Not too long ago, Gimli would rather have threatened to kill an elf himself, than be willing to grieve for one.

Aragorn closed his eyes, listening to the words of the song. He was easily able to make out Legolas' clear voice among the others. For a long time, the elves sang about Haldir, praising his deeds and mourning his loss, then, one by one, they began to include the names of the other fallen warriors into their song, a single voice rising above the others momentarily, whenever the one who had been closest to the deceased took the lead.

Finally, one song ended and another began. This time, Aragorn knew both the song and the words. It was a lament he had been taught a long time ago by his brothers. Without conscious thought, he rose and walked over to the small group of elves, his heart knowing where he needed to be. Without turning or looking at him, Legolas moved aside, allowing him to take the place to his right. Taking his place in the half-circle at his friend's side, Aragorn joined in the song without hesitation, his deeper voice mingling harmoniously with the fair ones of the elves.

Finally, the elves fell silent, again one after another, and the song faded away. In its wake, a deep silence lingered, as if none of the men dared to move for fear of breaking the spell the song had woven. Then two of the Galadhrim stepped forward, kneeling down beside one of their fallen brethren. One taking the legs and the other the shoulders, they lifted the body and began to carry it towards the burial site. As if waking from a dream, the Rohirrim slowly moved aside, making room for the elves and their burden.

Legolas, too, left Aragorn's side and walked over to one of the fallen. The ranger followed him slowly. He was not surprised to see that Legolas was standing beside Haldir. In spite of his violent death, the marchwarden's features seemed almost restful now, and his skin was white as snow. Legolas did not move for a long time, and Aragorn did not try to push him. He waited patiently, knowing that his friend needed the time to deal with his feelings. The ranger bowed his head, allowing his own grief to consume him for this one, fleeting moment.

When he looked up again, he saw that Legolas was watching him, both gratitude and a hint of worry in his eyes. Understanding the unspoken message, Aragorn answered, "I will take some rest after we have buried our dead." Legolas nodded, accepting the answer. Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw Gimli and several of the men of Rohan carrying off the bodies of other elven warriors. Legolas smiled at him a bit wistfully, and the ranger knew that his friend had seen them, too.

Legolas moved to Haldir's shoulders, and waited until Aragorn stood at the marchwarden's feet. Silently, they lifted Haldir between them and carried him to what was to become his last resting place in the shadow of the Hornburg.

- The End -


	17. The Fifth Walker

_**Author's Note:**__ Here I am again with another gapfiller. This story takes place after the Council of Elrond and before the departure of the Nine Walkers from Rivendell. A big thank you to everyone who reviewed my last chapter – knowing that there are people out there who want to read my stories is a great encouragement and motivates me to keep writing. I hope you'll enjoy this story, too, and, as usual, I would love to hear what you think about it! :)

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_**Title**: The Fifth Walker

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel (((hugs)))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: Aragorn and Legolas have a little talk about words that have been spoken and decisions that have been made during the Council of Elrond. Gapfiller, set between the Council of Elrond and the departure of the Nine Walkers from Rivendell. Mostly bookverse. Written for Prompt #130 "Responsibility" in the Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything that is recognizable from the books or the movies. I just like playing with elves and rangers and will usually return them unscathed. Well, mostly. ;-)

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o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**- The Fifth Walker -**

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'_Alas! Alas!' cried Legolas, and in his fair elvish face there was great distress. 'The tidings that I was sent to bring must now be told. They are not good, but only here have I learned how evil they may seem to this company. Sméagol, who is now called Gollum, has escaped.'_

_'Escaped?' cried Aragorn. 'That is ill news indeed. We shall all rue it bitterly, I fear. How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their trust?'_

(J.R.R. Tolkien, 'The Lord of the Rings', Book Two, Chapter II: 'The Council of Elrond')

"I am sorry."

The voice broke through the peaceful silence, startling the elf who was standing in the far corner of the balcony, watching the mists rise from the River Bruinen far below, lost in thought. Aragorn did not miss the unusual reaction. In all the years they had known each other, he had never been able to sneak up on Legolas. He did not like that he had been able to do so today.

Legolas looked at him, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment. Then his eyes seemed to be drawn back to the swirling wafts of mist, which were slowly closing in on them, seemingly swallowing the valley and the mountains beyond until the balcony seemed to be nothing but a small island drifting in an endless grey void. Even the roaring of the mighty falls was nothing but a muffled sound in the distance.

Satisfied that his presence was not unwelcome, Aragorn stepped out onto the balcony, leaning against the rail beside his friend. The mist was wet and cold on his skin, but he had always liked the silence and the feeling of security that came with it. More than once, it had hidden him from his enemies and kept him safe. Even now, it was tempting to believe that this place and the people inside it would be safe as long as the mist hid them from prying eyes.

"The words I said at the council were thoughtless and overhasty," Aragorn finally went on, his words honest and tinged with regret. "They should have never been spoken."

This time, he gained the elf's undivided attention. "There is no need to apologize, Estel," Legolas said quietly. "I never held those words against you."

"Besides," he added after a moment, looking down at his hands where they were resting on the rail, "everything you said was true. Sméagol was our responsibility. You entrusted him to us, and we failed you."

"You did not fail me," Aragorn contradicted, and they both knew he was referring to a single elf now. "You did all you could, and you suffered great losses for it. I could not ask for more. None of you could have known how dangerous and crafty a creature Gollum was."

"I should have known," Legolas insisted, still not looking at his friend. "He appeared to be nothing but a wretched and miserable creature, but I should have known better than to waste my pity." He took a deep breath. "I of all people should know that anything that comes out of Mordor is tainted and deadly, even if it was taken there against its will. If anyone should apologize, it is me."

Aragorn eyed him for a long moment, sympathy in his eyes. "We should have talked about this sooner," he said, a hint of regret in his voice. "Legolas, will you look at me for a moment?"

The elf raised his head, but Aragorn could see he did it reluctantly. "The death of the guards is not your fault," the ranger said emphatically. "Neither is Gollum's escape-" He raised his hand to ward off the protest forming on the elf's lips. "I know what I said during the council. I should not have spoken before I knew all the facts. Neither you nor any of the other warriors in Mirkwood could have known how dangerous Gollum could be, without knowing about his history. I might have pitied him myself, had I not spent so many weeks trying to keep him from murdering me in my sleep."

Looking at Legolas, Aragorn saw that his words were finally beginning to have an effect. The elf seemed to be willing to at least think about what he had said, instead of dismissing it right away. Knowing that he had made his point and that further prodding would be counterproductive, the ranger waited patiently for his friend to reach his own conclusion.

"Perhaps you are right," Legolas conceded after a while. "No one could have foreseen that Gollum would somehow be able to enlist the help of orcs to regain his freedom. But I still believe I should have been more cautious. Every creature that has been tainted by the Dark Lord's touch tends to repay kindness with treachery. It would be easier to bear if _I_ had been guarding Gollum that day."

"I am glad you were not," Aragorn said. If Legolas had been among the guards that day, he knew it would have been _him_ who was unable to forgive himself.

There was silent understanding in Legolas' eyes. "I also regret that Gollum's escape made things even more difficult for you," he added after a moment.

"I know," Aragorn answered. They looked at each other for a moment, and the ranger noticed gratefully that his friend was finally beginning to relax. "There is still a chance we might never see him again."

Legolas shook his head. "The Ring will call to him," he said softly. "He will be drawn to it as long as there is still life in his body. I will never underestimate its power again."

Aragorn knew the sudden chill he felt had nothing to do with the mist or the cool evening air. "I hope you are wrong."

"So do I."

"So it was Gollum's escape that has been tormenting you for all these weeks since the council?" the ranger asked, both wanting to know and wanting to change the subject. "I feared you were avoiding me out of anger."

Legolas smiled at him. "I told you I never held the words you spoke at the council against you," he replied simply.

"You would have had every right to do so," Aragorn admitted, "especially since I was careless enough to utter those words in the presence of dwarves."

Legolas' eyes narrowed. "On second thought, perhaps I should not have forgiven you quite so readily," he mused.

Aragorn chuckled. For a while, they shared a companionable silence.

"It is hard to believe that such a wretched creature was a hobbit once, or at least something very much like one," Legolas spoke up then, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps it was a mercy instead of a tragedy that Isildur was killed so soon after he had taken possession of the Ring."

Ther mere thought of Isildur turning into as revolting a creature as Sméagol had become, or of having to face his ancestor now instead of Gollum, made Aragorn shudder. "It likely was," he agreed, wondering where his friend was going with this.

"We are blessed to have leaders like Lord Elrond and Mithrandir among us, who are wise enough not to take the Ring or use it even if it was presented to them," the elf went on.

Aragorn stayed silent. He could feel his friend's gaze boring into him.

"You are not Isildur, Estel," Legolas said quietly. "Nor is the Ring your responsibility because your ancestor chose to keep it. His choice is not yours, and neither is his weakness."

The ranger began to wonder exactly when he had lost control over this conversation. Sometimes he wished Legolas did not know him quite so well.

"Do not deny that you will go with Frodo," the elf went on relentlessly. "I saw that decision in your eyes the moment he declared he would take the Ring."

Aragorn looked up at that, staring at the elf. "How could I not go, knowing that Isildur brought this upon us!" it erupted from him. "The Ring is my fate. It belongs to my heritage as surely as the ring of Barahir. It is bad enough that Frodo had to take the Ring because I did not dare do so! How could I allow him to walk into danger without me?"

Legolas sighed. "You could not," he said, "even if Isildur was not your ancestor or if he had never taken the Ring from the Dark Lord's hand. I only wish you could leave the burden of guilt and doubt behind you, which you have been carrying for so many years now."

There was pain in Aragorn's eyes when he said, "I cannot. Not before I have proven to myself that I will resist its temptation. Isildur has done great harm to this world, and still I fear I might do the same. I do not know how Frodo found the courage to take this burden. How can I be sure that I could resist the Ring's temptation if I do not even dare to touch it?"

"Not daring to take the Ring does not prove your cowardice, but your wisdom," Legolas replied harshly. "If Mithrandir and Lord Elrond do not trust themselves with that Ring, neither should you. I would not take it if my life depended on it. It is the nature of the Ring that it corrupts the one who carries it, and as I understand it, its power matches that of its bearer. Of all of us, a hobbit may well stand the best chance of surviving this task without losing himself!"

Aragorn rested his elbows on the rail, trying to calm down. He could not deny that Legolas' words made sense. "Perhaps you are right," he reluctantly echoed the elf's words from before, "but I still wish Frodo did not have to carry this burden in my stead. It does not seem to be fair."

"I know," Legolas replied, putting a hand lightly on his friend's shoulder. "Frodo had a choice, and he will not be alone." He met the ranger's gaze. "And neither will you."

Aragorn straightened, alarm in his eyes. "I would never ask that of you, Legolas."

"You do not have to ask."

"The Ring is not your responsibility," Aragorn insisted. "There is no reason for you to risk your life in this quest. You do not need to atone for Gollum's escape."

"I can see ample reason to go on this quest," Legolas answered, looking at him meaningfully, "and this has nothing to do with Gollum's escape. Where the Ring is concerned, it became my responsibility the moment it reappeared and threatened what I hold dear."

Aragorn stared at him, not sure whether to be afraid for his friend's sake or grateful for his own. "But – what about your duty to your realm and your father?" he asked softly.

Legolas turned his head, his piercing gaze fixed on the swirling mist as if he could see right through it to the majestic peaks of the Misty Mountains beyond. "The fate of the Ring will decide the fate of Middle-earth," he said quietly. "By going on this quest I will serve my people and my king better than I could anywhere else. It is true that my presence would make a difference in the upcoming fights, but it would only be a temporary reprieve. This time, victory can only be achieved by destroying the Enemy's most formidable weapon, and by protecting those who have taken that task upon themselves."

"But-" Aragorn began again, only to be interrupted before he could voice any further objections.

"Save your breath, Estel. The decision has already been made."

"You have spoken to Lord Elrond about this?" Aragorn asked disbelievingly.

"I have," the elf confirmed, and repeated, "The decision has been made."

Aragorn sighed, but he could not help the smile tugging at his lips or the gratitude shining in his eyes.

"Hannon le," he said, knowing there was nothing else to say.

Legolas smiled back at him, but the only thing he said was, "I think it is time for supper. Since there are hobbits around, we would probably do well to be early."

Aragorn laughed. "Your words are wise, as usual," he answered.

Knowing that Legolas and Gandalf would both be a part of the Fellowship, he found that the quest suddenly did not seem like such an impossible thing anymore.

- The End -


	18. The Fading Flower

_**Author's Note**__: Yep, yet another gapfiller. Surprised? (g) It's a bit of a sad, though I hope also beautiful, story this time. As usual, I would love to hear how you liked it. :) _

_I want to thank you all of you who've read my last story, "A Morning in Imladris", and especially those who reviewed it! ;-) **asdfjkl;** I'm very glad you enjoy my stories so much, thanks a lot for all the feedback you sent me! (huggles readers and reviewers)_

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**Title**: The Fading Flower

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel (((hugs)))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: During the Fellowship's stay in Lothlórien, Legolas begins to realize more clearly than ever before the consequences destroying the Ring will have for the elves and for the whole of Middle-earth. Gapfiller, set during the time the Fellowship spent in Caras Galadon in Lothlórien. Bookverse. Characters: Aragorn, Legolas. Written for Prompt #131 "Memory" in the Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: If I did own Lothlórien, the elves would never have left. Meaning I obviously do not own any characters or places that are recognizable from "The Lord of the Rings". ;-)

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**- The Fading Flower -**

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"I should have known I would find you here," Aragorn commented, dragging his weary body up onto the wooden platform, which had been built so high up between the branches of the mighty tree that it almost seemed to be possible to reach out and touch the sky from here. He had not bothered to count the ladders and flets he had had to climb or cross to get here, but judging from the shaking of his legs and the heavy breathing he was trying to hide, it had been too many. "You would always choose the flet farthest away from the ground to climb to."

Legolas, who was sitting cross-legged on the far end of the small flet, looked back over his shoulder at his friend, amusement in his eyes. The elf did not look surprised, and Aragorn knew Legolas had likely been aware of his ascent for quite some time now. "I did not force you to join me, Estel," the elf remarked.

Knowing there was not really an answer to that, Aragorn instead crossed the platform and dropped down beside his friend, though he chose to sit a little bit farther away from the edge of the flet than the elf. The view in front of him was breathtaking, and the ranger simply sat in silence for a while, taking in the beauty of his surroundings.

Their flet seemed to be drifting in a sea of pale golden Mallorn leaves, which were swaying and rustling gently in a light breeze, like waves rippling upon the shore. The foliage almost seemed to shine in its own inner golden light, and if Aragorn had not already seen this place in summer, he never would have believed it was winter now. Beyond the Golden Wood, the river Anduin shimmered in the sunlight like a band of silver, and on its far side lay another, darker forest, the edge of which seemed to be shrouded in grey mist even in broad daylight.

Aragorn knew he was looking at the pine trees which constituted the southern border of Mirkwood and held the hill and the dark tower of Dol Guldur in their midst. Even from this distance, shadows clung to the densely growing trees, shadows which could not even be pierced by the light of Anor and seemed to emanate from Dol Guldur like a slowly spreading poison. The hill and the tower themselves could not be seen where they lay hidden in their own darkness, and the ranger did not want to imagine what might be dwelling there, or beneath the boughs of the surrounding trees, these days.

Unwilling to let his gaze linger on the cursed place any longer, Aragorn looked further to the north, where the trees seemed friendlier and less marred by the darkness. He had already been well aware of the vastness of the forest that was now called 'Mirkwood' from the many times he had had the opportunity to look down on it when travelling over the Misty Mountains, but he found it was even more impressive when viewed from a lesser height.

From here, the forest seemed to extend as far as the eyes could see, a winter-brown woven tapestry of intertwining boughs and bare treetops. He let his gaze rest on it for a while, easily finding the beauty and the promise there that Legolas had so often tried to convey to him. Suddenly, it was easy to understand why the elf had chosen this of all possible flets to retreat to.

"Your people and your forest have survived for too long to be defeated now," he finally spoke, his words no louder than the rustling of the leaves around them.

Legolas did not turn his head, but he smiled. "I know," he said, but his eyes were turned to the east, and there was sorrow in them as well as longing.

Both understanding his friend's feelings and knowing there were no other assurances he could give, Aragorn decided to voice what had been on his mind for several days now, and what had finally driven him to seek the elf out today. "I have not seen you very often during these last days," he said. "Are you well?"

Legolas smiled at him warmly, at last tearing his gaze away from the forest he had called 'home' for countless years. "Yes, I am, Estel," he answered. "I just… needed some time for myself."

Aragorn nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew the elf had likely been overwhelmed, both by his grief for Gandalf and the magical beauty of the place he found himself in. The ranger was glad Legolas had had the chance to spend some time among his own people, who would have been able to understand his grief and share it in a way only elves could ever truly understand. His friend seemed to fare better than the last time he had seen him and Aragorn realized that, for once, his worry had been unfounded.

"I take it you have used the time to revisit sweet memories?" the elf asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Aragorn smiled a bit wistfully. "To me, they will always be rather bittersweet, though they have brought me happiness beyond imagining." He fell silent, looking at the Mallorn leaves beyond the flet without really seeing them.

Perhaps sensing that his friend did not wish to talk about the subject any more, Legolas did not answer anything to that. "Everything seems to be bittersweet about this place," he said instead. "I never dreamed there could be so much beauty left in Middle-earth, and yet I also never dreamed I would see my people leave these shores and all that beauty fade away with them. Now it seems even a victory will mean an end of sorts." He studied the sunlight shining through the leaves around them for a moment, then he added, "It is hard to believe that this place and those who live here will soon be no more than a memory."

It was a thought Aragorn had found hard to endure from the moment the subject had first been raised at the Council of Elrond, but he knew he could not begin to imagine what it meant to an elf. "Like Gandalf?" he asked quietly.

Legolas looked at him, frowning slightly. "Mithrandir will never be forgotten, for as long as there are elves to remember him. I wonder who will remember the elves, when all of us have finally left these shores, or faded away?"

"There is hope still," Aragorn reminded him firmly, not willing to go there, and equally unwilling to allow his friend to dwell on such gloomy thoughts. "Perhaps, if we are victorious, the elves will not have to leave. Perhaps the power of the three Rings will not fade."

"Lord Elrond believes it will, and so does the Lady Galadriel," Legolas objected. "The Land of the Valley of the Singing Gold has become no more than a dreamflower, and I fear that flower will fade soon. (1) Still, it gladdens my heart that I was allowed to see the Golden Wood before the end. I will never forget the wonders I have seen during our stay here."

Aragorn did not speak for a while, collecting his thoughts. "If there is one thing I can promise you," he then began, "it is that the elves will never be forgotten."

Legolas looked at him questioningly, but did not interrupt, so the ranger continued, "Without the elves, something will always be missing in this world. Even if no one will remember what has been lost, they will still mourn for it." He met his friend's gaze. "Besides, the elves will leave, not die. Their realms and deeds will never be forgotten as long as they carry their memories in their heart."

"Just like Mithrandir," Legolas whispered.

"Just like Mithrandir," Aragorn agreed. "If you ask me, the elves got the better part. They will lose neither their past, nor their future, while of men I am not so sure."

"And still I wish neither elves nor wizards would have to become memories," Legolas said.

Aragorn smiled a bit sadly. "So do I."

"This is not how I expected a victory over darkness to be," the elf added, "but I admit anything is preferable to Middle-earth being ruled by the Dark Lord."

"Yes, it is."

For a moment, there was silence.

"I believe there is one good thing about the Galadhrim leaving Middle-earth," Legolas remarked before the silence could become uncomfortable. "There will be a lot fewer people who remember that I had to be led through the Golden Wood blindfolded because of a dwarf."

Aragorn laughed, putting one arm lightly around his friend's shoulders. "I do not think said dwarf will allow you to forget that anytime soon – especially since he seems to be, for some reason, convinced that it was all your fault."

Legolas sighed.

After a long pause, he said, "I do not know what happens to men when they leave this world. But I know that some of them will never be forgotten."

There was no answer, but the arm around his shoulders tightened and a warm hand squeezed his shoulder firmly for a fleeting moment.

- The End -

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Footnotes:

(1): _Galadriel reportedly planted the mallorns, and under the power of her ring the forest realm became Laurelindórinan, Land of the Valley of the Singing Gold; but through the wearing of centuries it faded and so became Lothlórien, the Dreamflower._

Excerpt from 'The Atlas of Tolkien's Middle-earth' by Karen Wynn Fonstad


	19. Of Cliffs and Rangers

_**Author's Note**__: I couldn't resist having a bit of fun with my favourite elf and ranger (well, ex-ranger, in this case). ;-) Well, actually I'm not sure if it was that much fun for them, but it sure was for me. *bg* I hope you'll enjoy reading! :)

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**Title**: Of Cliffs and Rangers

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel (((hugs)))

**Rating**: K

**Summary**: A certain elf and a certain ex-ranger are having a streak of bad luck – again. Post-RotK. Characters: a certain elf, a certain ex-ranger, and Gimli. Written for Prompt #140 "Cliff" in the Owners of Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: I'm not sure if anything in this story has much to do with Tolkien's world anymore, but I'm still quite sure I don't own them. ;P

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**- Of Cliffs and Rangers -**

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"What is it about you and cliffs?" a disembodied voice wanted to know from somewhere inside the pitch-black darkness.

"I do not have any problem with cliffs and cliffs do not have any problem with me," a second, just as disembodied and rather tense-sounding voice answered from somewhere nearby.

"Don't they? I'm not so sure the cliffs would agree."

"No one has asked them and if you haven't mutated into a dwarf since the last time I was able to see you, I doubt either of us would be able to understand what they have to say, anyway."

"I do not need to hear them to know what they would say. It is quite obvious to anyone but you that both cliffs and taverns seem to have a natural aversion to you, for whatever reason, the result being that there are disastrous consequences both for you and anyone who happens to be with you whenever you get near one of them."

"This situation is not my fault!" the second voice protested.

"Well, I didn't choose this path, did I?"

"It was a shortcut! And if you, in your infinite wisdom, already knew that the path was going to be dangerous, you could have said something before it was too late!"

"Of the two of us, I am not the one who is gifted with foresight."

There was an inarticulate sound, clearly originating from the second voice, but it didn't form into words. For a while, there was silence.

"It is dark," the first voice finally broke the lingering silence. It sounded tentative, almost meek.

"I know," the second voice answered, and this time it sounded almost gentle rather than tense or gruff.

"You were about to slip."

"Yes, I was."

"It would have been a long way down and there is no river anywhere near this place you could have fallen into!"

"I know."

"Don't… just don't do it again. Ever!"

"I'll do my best." There was a short pause, then the second voice added, again sounding very gentle, "You saved me. I am fine."

There was a soft, scratching sound as if something or someone was moving, followed by a sudden gasp.

"You are hurt! You said you were fine!" the first voice exclaimed, sounding highly indignant.

"Only cuts and bruises," the second voice tried to placate its invisible companion.

"That wouldn't be the bleeding-to-death, bones-sticking-out-of-one's-skin version of cuts and bruises, would it?"

"No, it isn't. I promise."

A sigh.

After another moment's silence, the first voice stated, "We should have waited for the dwarf."

"Are you sure you are well? No head injuries or anything of the kind?"

"You seem to forget that said dwarf is one of my two best friends now."

"And the other one would be…?"

"Arwen, of course. She has never managed to trap me inside a tiny, _dark_ cave buried alive under tons of rock and mud, after all."

Someone was taking a deep, steadying breath. "I couldn't have known there would be a mudslide, or that the edge of the cliff was going to collapse. We were lucky there _was_ a cave."

No answer.

"I didn't do it on purpose, you know."

Another sigh. "I know." And, after a moment, "You usually prefer wargs as companions when you fall off cliffs, after all."

There was a noise that sounded suspiciously like the grinding of someone's teeth. "I – do – not – have – a – habit – of – falling – off – of – cliffs!"

"You could have fooled me."

"Do we really have to go through that again?"

"You could just be reasonable and admit you have a problem with cliffs."

A groan. "I-" the voice broke off.

There was a strange rumbling sound, and then stones and dirt came raining down on the two companions sitting huddled in the darkness below. A dirty, scraped hand found another, much less dirty one and squeezed it.

"I believe we are about to be rescued," the second voice said hopefully.

Suddenly, bright daylight was falling through a hole which had opened miraculously above them, making both of them squint. Almost immediately, the light was blocked out again by a shadow falling over the hole. "If any foolish elves or ex-rangers happen to be buried down there somewhere, you'd better be alive if you don't want me to kill you myself!" a rough voice barked from outside.

Aragorn smiled and saw Legolas grinning at him. He could almost watch the tension drain from the elf's body now that the oppressive darkness had given way to grey daylight and they had the prospect of being freed from the confining rock walls soon. "We are fine, Gimli!" he called back.

Gimli did not answer right away. When he spoke again, his voice sounded even rougher than before and wavered slightly. "How many limbs are you missing?"

"None," Legolas replied merrily, "though Aragorn tried his best to get all his limbs smashed." That earned him a glare and an elbow to the ribs.

"Still not learned to stay away from cliffs, have you, lad?"

Legolas chuckled, but moved quickly enough to dodge Aragorn's elbow this time.

Gimli shook his head. "I don't know how the two of you ever managed to survive until you found a good-natured, sensible dwarf to take care of you." He found himself pinned by two glares, but did not seem to be too impressed.

"We'll get you out of there now, but please don't take any tours into the mountains without me the next time you visit Aglarond. All that rain this year has made the terrain dangerous and unstable."

"We've noticed," Aragorn murmured.

Gimli vanished from sight, and Aragorn found his friend eying him speculatively.

"What?" he wanted to know.

"Rain or not, I still say we would have been safe if you hadn't chosen the path at the edge of that cliff."

The sounds of commands being called and pickaxes and shovels hitting rock and mud drowned out any reply Aragorn might have made.

- The End -

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_P.S. Please send all comments and reviews to the Antarctica, where the author is currently hiding from the canon police using her tried and tested penguin disguise. :D_


	20. Leavetaking

_**Author's Note**__: Many thanks to all those of you who reviewed "Of Cliffs and Rangers"! :)

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**Title**: Leave-taking

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel (((hugs)))

**Rating**: K+

**Summary**: A shared moment between friends before one of them leaves for a long journey. Characters: Aragorn, Legolas. Written for Prompt #141 "Travel" in the Owners of Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any elves or rangers, but I'll gladly accept them as Christmas presents. ;-)

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**- Leave-taking -**

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"You will have to travel far," Legolas stated, his thoughtful gaze resting on the horizon as if trying to catch a glimpse of the lands that lay hidden beyond the Misty Mountains.

"Farther than ever before," Aragorn agreed. Following the elf's gaze, he wondered what his friend's eyes were perceiving in the distance. Was he able to spot an eagle circling one of the snow-covered mountain peaks from here? He could recall countless moments during his childhood, when he had wished to just once be able to see like an elf did. He could also recall just as many moments in his adult life, when Legolas' almost uncanny eyesight had saved both their lives.

"When will you leave?" the elf asked.

"As soon as possible," Aragorn answered, tearing his gaze away from the mountains and looking at the friend, sitting beside him on a balcony of the Last Homely House, instead. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I will be able to come back."

"Tomorrow, then?"

Aragorn nodded. "Tomorrow."

The ranger could not help thinking that tomorrow suddenly seemed far too soon. He did not feel ready to leave; he was not sure if he was ready or able to face what lay in front of him. The one thing he was certain of was that he had to go. If he wanted to fulfill his destiny and have even the tiniest chance of wedding the woman he loved one day, there was no other choice.

"I will miss you," he said quietly. "I will miss everything."

Legolas met his gaze, but did not reply. Aragorn realized his friend would neither try to hold him back, nor make it more difficult for him by telling him of his own fears and feelings. The ranger suddenly felt immensely grateful, and slightly humbled.

"I do not suppose you will be able to write letters?" Legolas asked, his voice as neutral as he could make it.

"I do not think so," Aragorn admitted reluctantly. "No one must know, or be given cause to suspect, my identity. I will be travelling under a new name. I do not know if I will meet anyone in Gondor or Rohan I would dare to entrust with a letter for you, or for my father, or brothers." He smiled a bit wistfully. "I doubt I will meet any elves or wizards willing to deliver messages on my journeys."

Once he had left Rivendell, he would enter a world of men. He was glad that his time with the rangers had prepared him for this journey. He knew that he would need all the knowledge and experience given to him by men and elves to survive the coming years.

"Perhaps you will come to Lothlórien at some point of your journey?"

Aragorn hesitated, not sure how to answer to that. He did not know if he would ever dare to set foot in Lothlórien. Right know, that place held too many of his hopes and dreams, and too large a portion of his heart. He was not ready to risk any of it yet by facing the one who was holding his future in her hands. "Perhaps I will," he finally conceded. "If I do, you will be the first to know."

Perhaps sensing his friend's discomfort, Legolas changed the topic. "You know, the last thing you need is another name, Estel Aragorn Strider Longshanks," he said teasingly.

Aragorn smiled. "I somehow doubt calling myself 'Strider' or 'Longshanks' would inspire much confidence, and Aragorn will be a far too dangerous name to use for now. Estel… Estel will always be reserved for family and those closest to my heart. That does not leave me many options, does it?"

Legolas looked at him in a strange way, a mixture of warmth and sorrow in his eyes. "Return to us safely, and I will not mind having to memorize a hundred new names to call you," he said softly.

"I will try," Aragorn said, feeling himself reminded of the many situations during his childhood when he had tried to extract promises from Legolas that he would return to him safely when the elf had to leave Rivendell once again. "Though I probably won't be able to come up with _that_ many names."

"I wish-" Legolas began and broke off.

Aragorn did not need him to speak the words to know what he had wanted to say. _I wish I could accompany you._ "Me, too," he said, smiling at the elf warmly.

They both knew it was impossible. Legolas was needed in his own home, and Aragorn could not risk travelling with an elf if he wanted to move among men as their own kind. It would be hard to be completely on his own, with no one to guard his back, and help endless miles away. Sitting comfortably on the familiar balcony with Legolas at his side, it was difficult to imagine that he would soon be travelling alone through strange lands.

"Will you say goodbye?" the elf asked.

Aragorn had considered leaving furtively through the backdoor, but somehow he was quite sure he would find his entire family – Legolas and Halbarad included – waiting for him if he tried. He really did not want it any other way, though saying goodbye would not be easy. He would have to spend more than enough time without them. "I will leave at sunrise," he answered.

"Then I will be there."

"I never doubted it."

They exchanged a smile. Neither of them felt the need for words anymore, so they simply sat together in silence, enjoying the view and soaking in the rays of the late spring sun.

Tomorrow and its many partings would come soon enough.

– The End –

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_I think I already mentioned that I hate having to say goodbye. ;-) The next chapter will be some kind of sequel to this one, since the best part of goodbyes are always the reunions. Feedback is always very welcome! :)_


	21. A Perfect World

_**Author's Note**__: This story can be seen as some kind of sequel to "Leave-taking" (posted as chapter 20). Funny enough, "A Perfect World" was not planned to be a sequel – only after I had written the story I noticed that it actually was one. ;-) _

_Happy Birthday, Jedi Sapphire! I hope your day will be just as perfect as Aragorn's was in this story, mellon-nin! (huggles)

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**Title**: A Perfect World

**Author**: Silivren Tinu

**Beta**: the wonderful Imbecamiel (((hugs)))

**Rating**: K

**Summary**: Aragorn muses what a perfect world would be like. Characters: Aragorn, Legolas. Written for Prompt #132 "Perfect" in the Aragorn Angst yahoo group.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any elves, rangers, or oak trees. (sigh)

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o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

**- A Perfect World -**

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Aragorn leaned back comfortably against the boulder behind him, watching the dancing flames of the campfire in front of him. The air was cool, but the fire held both the cold and the darkness at bay and the crackling of the flames was the only sound that could be heard. The ranger's senses had been honed to constant vigilance over the years, but now he found himself slowly relaxing, his instincts giving in to the peaceful atmosphere around him.

When he looked away from the fire, he could see the reddish afterglow of a glorious sunset over the western horizon and the first bright stars twinkling in the darkening sky above. The enticing smell of roasted venison still lingered in the air, mixing with the typical autumnal smells of mushrooms and wet, rotting leaves coming from the forest. Aragorn could not remember the last time he had felt so contented, or had had so many good reasons for feeling that way.

He had been treated to a magnificent golden-red sunset after having already been surrounded by the fiery colours of the forest all day, the hunt had been successful and he had eaten well and a little bit too much, he was sitting by a warm campfire, he had made sure that there was no danger lurking anywhere in the vicinity, he had a trusted companion with him… and said trusted companion, who also happened to be his so-called best friend, had finally tired of throwing acorns at him.

Aragorn looked up at the elf, who was perched on a low-hanging branch of an oak tree, the acorns of which still littered the ground all around the ranger. As annoying as it tended to be, the elf's playfulness had reminded the man of happy days long since gone by, when a young human boy had been taught by his much older elven friend how to hit moving targets while sitting high up on the branches of a tree. Needless to say, the inhabitants of Imladris had not been pleased. In hindsight, the ranger found he could understand why.

During the last years, Aragorn had been forced to spend so much time alone that he knew he would never take the presence of a friend for granted again, especially the presence of this particular friend. Legolas not only knew him better than anyone else, he also reminded him of everything that had been good and precious about his past, before he had ever learned about his true heritage. What was more, Aragorn knew that his heritage had never made any difference to the elf. Legolas had chosen to befriend a dreamy, thoughtful human child, who had needed a friend at that time, and not the heir of Isildur.

Besides, having an elf as company again just felt comfortingly familiar. Legolas' eyes glittered in the firelight like the eyes of a cat, and he seemed just as relaxed and lazy as a cat on the mantelpiece. He was not looking at Aragorn or the fire, and his posture seemed to indicate that he was listening to some distant sound only his elven ears could detect – perhaps a deer moving through the forest, the faint whisperings of the trees, or the song of the stars.

Aragorn found himself relaxing even further, soaking up the warmth of both the fire and dear memories, and wishing this moment could last for a long time. _This is perfect_, he thought, only realizing that he had spoken the words aloud when Legolas turned his head to look at him.

"I take it you have not eaten well for a long time if you call this meal 'perfect'," the elf teased.

Knowing that his friend understood very well what he had meant, the ranger did not bother replying anything to that. Wrapping his coat tighter around himself and stretching his feet towards the fire, the man asked on a sudden whim, "What do you think the world would be like if the Dark Lord did not exist?"

Noticing Legolas' raised eyebrow, Aragorn quickly added, "Just imagine if Isildur had not kept the Ring. I wonder what we would be doing right now in such a world."

"That is easy," the elf claimed, "at least where I am concerned. I would be sitting right here at a campfire, answering the strange questions of my human companion, whom I would have known for almost his entire life. I would probably carry fewer weapons, though… and my companion would have a lot less names, would not be a ranger, would likely be more well-kept and less dirty, and would not feel the need to be armed to his teeth on a simple hunting trip."

Aragorn glared at his friend half-heartedly, not sure whether to be annoyed or amused. "I like that thought," he finally admitted.

"You should," the elf informed him. "Even if we were living in a world without darkness, it would make no sense to change something that is already perfect."

The ranger smiled. "I would probably change the oak tree," he said thoughtfully. "A beech would be much nicer."

Legolas frowned. "What is wrong with this oak tree?" he wanted to know. "It is magnificent!"

"Oh, I like the tree," Aragorn replied. "I just wish it didn't have any acorns."

– The End –

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_I'd love to hear how you liked this story! :)_


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